Come Back Alive to This Place
by Sariniste
Summary: Lady Orihime Inoue's curiosity leads her into trouble when she falls into the hands of a masked pirate. Will her rescuer arrive in time? Does she even want him to? 19th century European AU, romance on the high seas, AiHime. Lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 1**

**A/N:** Lady Orihime Inoue's curiosity leads her into trouble when she falls into the hands of a masked pirate. Will her rescuer arrive in time? Does she even want him to? AU, romance on the high seas, set in a fictional world with a 19th century European flavor. AiHime, lemon later on.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach.

(Originally posted 9/16/11.)

XxXxXxX

"Silence!" The old king pounded his scepter against the inlaid hardwood marquetry in the airy audience room, high in the royal palace of the land of Seireitei. The conversations around the room filled with lords and nobles began to die down. Orihime, Lady Inoue, was sitting on a window seat, her back to the arguing nobles, staring out the long floor-to-ceiling mullioned windows over the blue of the ocean stretching into the far distance, and twisting a few strands of long auburn hair around and around her fingers. It was an unseasonably warm day in late fall, and the sun was shining over the rocky cliffs of the shoreline occasionally broken by brilliant white half-moons of sandy beach. All seemed peaceful and quiet over the ocean – sure proof that appearances could be deceptive.

The Lord Chamberlain's fussy voice rang out over the crowd as Orihime uncurled her legs from under her and pushed herself out of the window seat. "Would the members of the hereditary ruling council please take their seats?" Chojiro Sasakibe, who had served at the side of King Yamamoto longer than anyone could remember, was standing at the head of the long, highly polished teak conference table in the center of the room. The king had just seated himself on an elaborately carved, high-backed chair at the head of the table, a stern frown upon his lined face.

Orihime walked to the chair inlaid with the Inoue crest as the other noble representatives took their places. She glanced at them sidelong, trying to remember her aunt Rangiku's many hours of instruction about her fellow council members. She had been drilled on them until her head ached.

Upon her brother Sora's untimely death only last year, Orihime had found herself thrust into the position of head of the Inoue family and ranking Inoue representative to the noble council. It was a position she had never expected or been trained for, as Sora had always been the heir, and he had been fifteen years older. She was only eighteen, and although she was of legal age, she was quite aware of her naïveté in the complex politics of the Seireitei and the risks that could entail.

Her eyes strayed to a man with spiky black hair and an eyepatch lined with cloth of gold. He had an aggressive grin on his face as he talked to his neighbor. Lord Zaraki was rumored to have arranged his own father's murder in order to ascend to his position. His neighbor, Lord Kurotsuchi, wore elaborate black and white face paint that supposedly represented an ancient family tradition. He was said to be insane; Rangiku had lowered her voice when she said that he was rumored to have carried out genocide on a racial group in his territory and still conducted human experiments.

Orihime shivered and turned her attention to King Yamamoto with the resolve to keep her wits about her during this council meeting.

"As you all know, I have called you here for a very important reason. We are now experiencing perhaps the gravest threat ever to our country's peace and happiness, and this meeting is to discuss a mutual defense pact and the building of a fleet of ships to protect our lands." Yamamoto's long white beard quivered as he spoke.

Orihime again heard Rangiku's voice in her head. _"The king has been a strong leader for many years, but he is old and has become senile and vacillating. Power in the Seireitei has thus devolved to the noble families; power in the ruling council is held primarily by the triumvirate of Lord Kyoraku, Lord Ukitake, and Lady Soi Fon."_ Orihime glanced at each of the three in turn; they were sitting evenly spaced around the table, avoiding eye contact with each other. She had been forced to study flash cards her cousin Rukia had drawn up for her, and unfortunately Rukia was not a talented artist. She had drawn crude bunnies to represent each council member on one side of each card, and written a list of facts about them on the other. Orihime felt an unseemly giggle begin to bubble up from within her belly as she thought of the stern and correct Soi Fon with long bunny ears peeping out from behind her severe short black hair. She swallowed her hilarity and focused her gaze back on Yamamoto.

"We open the meeting with a roll call," intoned the Lord Chamberlain. He began reading out the names of the council members from a scroll he had just opened. Orihime's attention wandered again as he worked his way down the list of familiar names, until one caught her ear.

"Isshin, Lord Kurosaki." All eyes turned to the empty chair carved with the Kurosaki family crest. The Kurosaki family had been boycotting the council meetings for years, apparently due to some slight the king had given them. It mattered to Orihime because she had been betrothed to a young man she had never met, Lord Kurosaki's heir Ichigo, ever since she was five years old. Their territories were adjacent and relatively weaker than those of the surrounding families, so her parents had thought it of political advantage to promise their unimportant second child to the future heir of the Kurosaki lands.

Now they were dead and Orihime was Lady Inoue. There had been much debate among the remaining family members and councilors whether Orihime should go through with the marriage. Given her new position, a marriage to a mere heir would weaken the Inoue family and would leave them in danger of being completely absorbed into the larger Kurosaki domain. Ichigo Kurosaki, although handsome, was rumored to have a split personality with a violent streak. But close review of the marriage contract had revealed it to be ironclad. The Inoue family could not back out of their commitment without risking open conflict.

Orihime shivered. Although she had always known that a marriage of state was all she could expect, she had always foolishly believed in true love, and the ideal pairing of two souls coming together in a perfect match: soul mates. She forced her mind away from her unrealistic dreams and dark thoughts and back to the roll call. Once Sora and now Rangiku had always chided her for allowing her attention to wander. The important Lady of one of the thirteen highest ranking noble families in Seireitei should not behave like a dreamy child.

She felt someone's gaze upon her and lifted her eyes to see Lord Sousuke Aizen's mild brown eyes turned on her. The light from the windows glinted off his spectacles as he gave her a kindly smile. _"Lord Aizen will be one of the few council members you can trust,"_ Rangiku had said. _"He's well known as a kind, honest man, something of a bookish intellectual, but not to be underestimated; you can turn to him for advice and know he won't betray your confidence. He has long been an ally of our family. You should seek him out early."_ Orihime returned a hesitant smile to the older man; they had already spoken briefly before the commencement of the meeting and she had felt oddly comforted by his warm, deep voice.

She sighed inwardly while keeping her face impassive. Yes, she was going to need allies. Sora's death had left the Inoue domain severely weakened, and Rangiku had warned her that several of the more aggressive nobles might be observing their family and lands with an eye to annexation. In this, her first public appearance as Lady Inoue, she was going to have to demonstrate her strength to keep the wolves at bay.

Sasakibe had finished the formality of the roll call and had yielded the floor to the king. He put his rheumy hands on the table and cleared his throat several times before beginning. "I now come to the purpose of this gathering. The first task of this meeting is to pool all our information about our attackers. I think we are all agreed that sharing knowledge is the best route to defeating this threat once and for all." His voice cracked briefly then returned to a baritone as he cleared his throat again. "I will begin by listing the damage these criminals have wrought." He lifted a long scroll the lord chamberlain had placed in front of him. "Three royal vessels each carrying six months' tribute from the colonies, plundered and sunk on the high seas. The estimated value of the goods on board is as follows—" He continued in a monotone, his voice occasionally dropping into a mumble. Orihime had started to tune out again when Soi Fon abruptly stood. Her face was creased with fury.

"Your majesty, with all due respect, I think we need to do more than just enumerate the damages. And it's time to stop referring to them as a ragtag band of criminals." Her voice rang out over the room as her gaze passed over the table. "They are being led by a single person, and it is clear that it is an act of war. War against the Seireitei." She held up a piece of parchment. "I have here incontrovertible proof that all the pirates attacking us are being organized from Las Noches."

A hubbub of conversation burst out among the nobles at the table until Sasakibe pounded for attention again. Yamamoto glared at Soi Fon, and was about to speak when Kyoraku made a lazy gesture from his place at the foot of the table.

"I for one agree that we are not here to account for our losses. Each of us has lost ships and has seen attacks at our docks. We need to gather information on the strategies these pirates are using in order to mount an appropriate defense." He shrugged and leaned back in his seat. "At least, that's how I see it."

Kurotsuchi leaned forward, his eyes narrowed behind his face paint. "There's no scientific evidence that the place known as 'Las Noches' even exists. For all we know, it's a myth."

Lord Byakuya Kuchiki, scion of the oldest and richest of the noble families, long black hair perfectly coiffed and held by elaborate hairpieces rumored to cost an average worker several years' pay, looked down his patrician nose at Kurotsuchi. It was well-known he regarded the man as an upstart. Of course, according to Kuchiki, almost all of the nobles were beneath him in status. "Whether or not it is a myth, it is enough to know that a single will is controlling these pirates. We need to find the man responsible and destroy him as well as his hidden base, whether it has been given a mythical name or not."

Soi Fon was still standing. "I have further proof," she went on, waving her parchment, "that the pirates have been receiving assistance from within Seireitei itself. Yes," she continued at the shocked stares and unbelieving intakes of breath from the nobles, "we have a traitor in our ranks."

XxXxXxX

**A/N:** This fic was written at the request of several members of the Bleach Asylum AiHime fan club, who wanted AiHime smut in a Victorian or medieval European AU. It will only be ten chapters long. Constructive criticism, positive or negative, is always welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 2**

**A/N:** Thank you to reviewers **rootali, nypsy, VirgilTheart, Saga, tootsiepopgurl, Lonewingwriter, MondayRain90, Renee Tanaka, RabbidMaki, Cerice Belle, ichihime shaz, rin kage no kurokaze, Nightkill, Eldar-Melda, SalemDream, Gun d'ange, emo1sk8r, himefan, aifangirl, Flare-Flare, miss quirky bookworm, Shinigami School Girl**; and to the members of the AiHime fan club on Bleach Asylum, for being my initial inspiration for this story and for being so supportive. Plus kudos to **Lonewingwriter**, who suggested I write straight through while I was feeling so inspired.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach.

(Originally posted 9/18/11.)

XxXxXxX

In the spacious guest chamber she had been assigned, Orihime at last unlaced her shoes and curled up in the huge four-poster bed hung with draperies to rest before dinner. Tatsuki, her maidservant, bustled about stoking the fire and setting out Orihime's blue velvet gown for the evening meal, and Orihime took comfort in Tatsuki's chiding her about messing up her hair as usual. It felt good to be focused on homely tasks rather than the ominous and vague threats discussed in the meeting.

After Soi Fon's dramatic announcement, she had gone on to hint darkly about evidence she possessed concerning secret meetings among traitors and clandestine alliances with the enemy, but had made no direct pronouncements. The meeting had dragged on and on and had eventually dribbled off into nothingness at the end of the day, with nothing decided, no really important information exchanged, no action taken.

Orihime sighed. She began to understand better some of what Rangiku had said about Yamamoto being a weak leader. And it really did seem to be true that these pirate attacks were being directed by a single person. Did the mythical 'King of Las Noches' really exist?

She shivered as she remembered some of the tales she had heard as a girl about the island of Las Noches that supposedly lay just off the coast of the Seireitei; only no one had ever found it and lived to tell the tale. Supposedly it was inhabited by soul-sucking monsters who occasionally came forth to slake their terrible hunger for human spirits on the mainland. Parents frightened their children with stories of the bogeymen who would attack them if they disobeyed their parents or strayed too far from populated areas. But most sensible people thought Las Noches was just a myth, merely a children's tale. Hearing Las Noches mentioned as a threat in an adult council of war seemed quite strange; however, it was true that all the pirate vessels sighted recently had been flying a flag with the symbol of Las Noches, a reversed crescent moon. There had been a consensus at the meeting that the mysterious pirate king was using the old myth as a means to strike fear in the hearts of his victims.

But why? And where was his hidden base? The king and some of the stronger lords had sent fleets in attempts to discover the location of a pirate base, or any island off the coast, but had found nothing. There had even been some dark mumblings about magical powers of illusion, of the ability to turn an entire island invisible… which others on the council had scoffed at. Today's age was one of science, Kurotsuchi had proclaimed. The old belief in magic was dying away. It was just another myth, one that would not stand up to the test of scientific experimentation.

Nevertheless, Orihime suspected that everyone on the council had left the meeting with the conviction that something needed to be done to combat the pirates of Las Noches, and the suspicion that Yamamoto would not be able to lead them to any kind of unified response. She wondered if she should try to seek out others on the council, form an alliance with a few sensible souls, try to develop some kind of mutual defense pact with them. The Inoue domain had seen its share of pirate attacks on their ships, raids on a couple of small fishing villages on their rocky coastline. However, such an alliance could be seen as rebellion and treason against the crown.

She sighed. It was so difficult to know what was best to do in these affairs of state. It was doubly challenging because she knew that the lives of her people could depend on what she decided.

She stood and allowed Tatsuki to lace up her dinner gown. The woman brushed her auburn hair briskly until it shone, commenting as usual on its beauty and how nice it looked against the deep blue of the gown. Orihime gave Tatsuki a grateful smile. They had been girlhood friends and had grown up together. Tatsuki was a distant cousin whose family had fallen on hard times, and when Orihime's position had elevated her to the height of power in her domain, she had gone to her friend and hesitantly asked her if she would be willing to take a maidservant position in the Inoue household. She still felt a bit uncomfortable about having her friend as a servant, but Tatsuki hadn't seemed to mind. She had pointed out that she always liked to work hard, and that her salary enabled her to support her parents and four younger brothers and sisters. And Tatsuki and Orihime still occasionally snuck off on adventures the way they used to when they were children. Orihime sighed. It had been a long time since she had had an adventure-everything was so serious now. She stood still and let Tatsuki finish dressing her.

When Orihime was finally ready, she was escorted to the grand dining room by one of the palace servants. She stopped a moment at the entrance, where the huge hand-carved wooden double doors were thrown back against the walls, their panels gleaming in the rich candlelight, and paused to gaze at the sight beyond.

The dining room was vast and high-ceilinged, with thousands of candles glittering in massive chandeliers hanging from long chains from the soaring ceiling. The hardwood floor was inlaid with a complex parquet pattern that ringed the room in a single symmetric design. Many long tables covered with fine white damask tablecloths were set with gold place settings and piled with steaming platters of food. Orihime took a deep breath. The food smelled delicious and she was quite hungry.

The servant took her to the long central table, and then stood for a moment searching for her name card among the place settings at the huge dining table. When he finally led her to her place, she was pleased to see that Lord Aizen was seated across from her. Perhaps this would be a good chance to get to know him. She observed him for a moment as he was speaking with his neighbor. His brown eyes were placid behind his spectacles, his tousled brown hair falling in his face in keeping with his reputation as a bookish man. He was wearing a white, ruffled shirt of fine silk under a black jacket and tails. According to Rukia's flash cards, he was in his mid-thirties. She met his eyes as he looked up and was rewarded with a warm smile. He stood up politely while she was seated by the servant.

"Greetings, Lady Inoue," he said in his deep and resonant voice. It seemed to vibrate within her, sending not unpleasant chills through her body, and oddly, she felt herself flushing.

She firmed her lips and gave him the polite nod of equals that Rangiku had drilled into her. "Good evening, Lord Aizen."

"I trust you did not find the council meeting too exhausting?" His expression was solicitous.

"No, not at all," she replied. As she spoke, a tall, rail-thin man in an elegant white jacket came up behind Aizen and bent to murmur in his ear. The man had fine silver hair falling in his eyes, which were slitted shut. He was smiling widely, but Orihime could not tell what he found so amusing. Aizen did not look at him, merely gave a brief nod at his words, and he glided away without further comment. Orihime stared after him, trying to shake off the odd sensation of feeling a snake coil around her skin. Then she returned her attention to her companion, who was politely waiting for her to continue speaking.

She hesitated a moment, then decided to go for the direct approach rather than sticking with meaningless small talk. "I was a bit surprised that we did not come to a decision on a joint action."

He raised his eyebrows at that. "Ah, Lady Inoue, it was your first council meeting." He met her eyes and smiled. "The rest of us have become accustomed to such a pace." He tilted one eyebrow at her, and she picked up on his subtle message, that he also believed that there were problems in the court of Seireitei. "You are a woman of action, then?" He raised his glass of wine to her and sipped, his eyes never leaving hers.

She considered him while she in turn sipped at her glass of water. His eyes were mild behind his glasses, but amongst the training that Rangiku had given her was a caution. _"You must be quite careful with your words. You are a head of state now, and members of the court of Seireitei will speak in veiled hints and insinuations. You must learn to speak their language and understand the double entendres and triple innuendoes. Above all, you must not commit the Inoue household to any positions or alliances without careful consideration."_

What was Aizen hinting at here? She chose her words with care. "I have always believed that actions speak louder than words, Lord Aizen. However, actions should be chosen with caution."

He broke into a smile at that. "I am a cautious man myself."

A servant approached with another noble in tow, stopped and looked puzzled. "Lady Inoue," he began, and then trailed off as he saw her place card in front of her. "I beg your pardon," he went on. "My mistake." He turned back to his guest. "My apologies, sir. I will find your place directly."

Orihime turned back to the table to find Aizen watching the servant depart with what might have been a tiny smile on his face. He swallowed another mouthful of wine, and then turned back to Orihime. "Do you believe that Las Noches exists?"

It was Orihime's turn to raise an eyebrow. "It is said to be a magical land." She set her fork down and waited while a servant scooped some delicious-looking stew onto her plate. "And I had heard you were a man of science. So you must not believe in magic?"

Aizen curled long fingers around the stem of his glass of wine, his face serious. "I am not one of those who believes that science and magic cannot co-exist. Science has great use, surely; but the world around us is full of mystery. Who is to say there is not room for magic in the interstices?"

Orihime nodded. "Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, after all." She was enjoying the verbal sparring with this man. She decided it was time to try a thrust of her own. "What do you believe this so-called 'King of Las Noches' wants?"

Light from one of the wall sconces flashed off Aizen's spectacles as he parried. "Who truly knows what is in a pirate's head?" he said lightly. "Treasure, booty?" He shrugged. "A misguided attempt to destabilize our nation?"

Orihime pressed her advantage. "Do you agree with what Lady Soi Fon suggested, that he seeks to invade and conquer the Seireitei?"

Aizen chuckled softly. "With all due respect to the Lady Soi Fon, the Seireitei is a rich and powerful country. It is unlikely that a mere pirate could have much of an impact on us. I rather believe," he said, his voice low, "that the Lady seeks to increase concern among the more vulnerable members of the council and the Seireitei in general."

She stared at him. "Why would she do that?"

He raised his eyebrow again. "Why do you think?"

Orihime's eyes locked on Aizen's behind his glasses. If the triumvirate could raise fear among a majority of the council, they might be able to draw more members to their side. Could they perhaps be considering some type of action themselves against the king? Was Aizen insinuating something more than mere restlessness and impatience in Soi Fon's actions? She nodded once to show she understood his hints.

He shifted in his seat and gave her another warm smile. "In any event, I don't think you need to fear that a pirate poses any real threat to Seireitei. In the past, much of the peril this nation has faced has come from within."

Was he referring to the weakness of the king, or a potential traitor? Orihime opened her mouth to ask something more, but then was distracted by a commotion at one of the entrances to the hall.

"I demand my right of entrance as a noble of the court of Seireitei!" The man's voice rang out over the hall, and all conversation hushed as faces turned to the tall, muscular black-haired man striding into the room. Two servants and a guard trailed ineffectually behind him, their protests swallowed up by the man's voice. He looked up and down the tables and came to a stop at the foot of the long central table where Orihime sat.

It was the Lord Isshin Kurosaki, his long face and heavy black beard unmistakable from the paintings Orihime had seen. His eyes were fixed on hers.

"The Lady Orihime Inoue has reached the age of majority." His voice was loud against the backdrop of whispers. "It is time for her family to fulfill their side of the contract and give her hand in marriage to my son Ichigo." He glared at Orihime. "She should have arrived at the Kurosaki lands on her eighteenth birthday, as specified in the contract. If she is not presented to us within one month from today, the Kurosaki household will take it as a declaration of war between our families."

He raised one arm, and to her shock, she saw he held a long-handled knife. He lifted it aloft as the well-dressed lords and ladies near him gasped and shrank back. He weighed it in his hand a moment, then with a well-practiced movement, spun it between thumb and forefinger, drew his arm back, and launched the knife into the air. It spun end over end, glittering in the candlelight, until it lodged with a loud thunk in the table directly in front of Orihime. She sucked in her breath but held steady, her eyes going from the knife back to Isshin.

The man was grinning now. "We look forward to welcoming the Lady Inoue to our home." With that he spun on his heel and strode out of the hall, the guards only now clustering around him. With a gesture of arrogant disdain, he shoved the guards out of the way. Orihime could see that he was ferociously strong, his muscular arms easily knocking down two of the guards as he exited.

As Isshin left the room, Orihime let out a breath that she hadn't been aware she had been holding. All around her, there were rising whispers, sidelong glances, and mutters behind bejeweled hands. She assiduously returned to her food. Aizen was gazing at her with a look of concern on his face.

"My lady, I hope you were not disturbed by that display," he said. "I believe the Kurosakis' bark has always been worse than their bite."

She could see he was trying to comfort her, and smiled a bit shakily. "No, I am not disturbed," she said firmly, lifting her chin.

"Do you intend to go through with the wedding?" he asked, watching her closely.

"Of course," she replied. "It is a contract, and the Inoues always honor their promises."

Aizen raised his eyebrows. "Your honor does you credit, my lady," and there was a look of pity in his eyes. Orihime turned her gaze back to her plate.

XxXxXxX

The banquet had gone on late into the night. Orihime had chosen to forego wine, and she was glad of it, as some of her compatriots had clearly overindulged and become raucous and belligerent. Others had fallen asleep in their chairs. Lord Aizen had sipped judiciously from his glass and remained lucid and coherent. She had found that he was quite a fascinating conversationalist, but she constantly had to be on guard against his rapier wit, and when it finally came time to retire to her room, she was exhausted. A palace servant had come with a candle to guide her to her room. She followed him gratefully, yawning.

However, she was satisfied with how the evening had proceeded. She had learned a great deal, and perhaps she had made a few tentative steps toward making an ally.

As for Isshin Kurosaki, she sighed. It was distressing that he had been so blunt and dramatic, but in reality, she had made her decision, and her family had already been preparing to send her to the Kurosaki domain for her marriage… perhaps not within a month, but certainly quite soon. She would not allow it to distress her. She would remain Lady of her domain even after her wedding, and most likely would return to her home shortly afterward. She told herself once again that she had always expected a marriage of state, and Rangiku's salacious stories of her own sexual exploits meant that she was quite prepared for what to expect in a marriage bed.

She sighed again as the servant opened the door to her bedchamber and lit several candles, then withdrew silently. She knew that the kinds of love and passion Rangiku described would never be attained by one in her position. She had resigned herself to it long ago. And perhaps Ichigo Kurosaki was not as brusque as his father, nor as unstable as the rumors suggested. From the portrait that had been sent to them, she had seen that he was well-built, with a trim, muscular body, and a handsome though sulky face underneath a mop of orange hair. At least their children would be good-looking, she mused.

Abruptly she got up. The walk back to her room had awakened her, and her thoughts made her restless. Out the window, the full moon shone brilliantly over the sleeping city, and she was seized with a sudden urge to take a brief turn in the gardens under the moonlight. She went to the wardrobe and slipped a shawl about her shoulders, then took a quick glance around the quiet bedchamber.

She could see Tatsuki was asleep in the small alcove off the main room. She hesitated for a moment. In the old days, the two of them had often snuck out of the house for nighttime adventures. She knew if Tatsuki were awake she would insist on accompanying her for her safety. But it was only into the palace gardens, which were well-guarded.

Orihime slipped out the door and glided down the corridor, turning left at the end toward the hallway that led to the garden entrance.

The night air was cool and fresh, and the gardens fragrant with jasmine and other night-blooming flowers. She took a deep breath of the still, cool air, savoring her unexpected and rare solitude. She was almost never alone these days, always surrounded by attendants or family members. It was wonderful to walk alone along the carefully tended paths of the formal gardens of the palace.

She was about to turn back toward her bedchamber when she heard a deep, familiar voice. Peering around the hedge, she saw three men walking along the garden path. They were all wearing black, so she could not make out their figures, but then they moved into a patch of moonlight and she recognized them.

The one in back was the thin, silver-haired man she had seen whisper to Aizen during dinner. And the other man was a powerfully-built dark-skinned man that she had seen with Aizen before—his bodyguard. The man in front, leading the others, was none other than Lord Aizen himself. Now why was he stealthily leaving the palace grounds so late at night? Orihime frowned. Rangiku always said, "Curiosity killed the cat," and she was frequently referring to Orihime when she said it.

She hesitated. It was none of her business, really. Then she heard the deep voice say, "… marriage to Ichigo Kurosaki…" and her ears pricked up. They were talking about _her_. How dare they, she thought, rather indignantly, and found that her feet had begun taking her along a path that would parallel the men's as they exited the gardens. They had turned the corner at the end and she heard the faint creak of a gate opening.

When she peered around the gate, she found herself in one of the wide streets surrounding the palace. She hesitated a moment. Should she really leave the safety of the palace? And where was the guard on this gate? As she looked down the street, she saw the three men about to disappear around the corner and made up her mind quickly. She ran lightly across the cobblestones of the street, following the three. She rationalized it to herself that she would be in no danger as long as she stayed near Lord Aizen and his men; surely any of them would be more than a match for any ruffians or criminals that might be lurking in the streets and alleys near the palace.

The men walked rapidly through the tangled maze of the city streets, and Orihime was hard-pressed to follow them. They were making their way in the direction of the docks, and she began to regret her rash decision to follow. But it was too late to turn back; it would surely be unsafe for her to return alone to the palace in the night, especially dressed the way she was.

She frowned as the men traveled further and further away from the palace and into the more disreputable docks district. What business could Lord Aizen possibly have in this area? The three men turned down a narrow alley and disappeared into a doorway.

When she caught up with them, the door had been barred. Scowling, she turned to the partially open window beside it. It was the work of a moment to shinny up a narrow drainpipe and slide over the windowsill. She stood for a moment in the dark room catching her breath. Her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest. She clutched her hands together to stop their trembling. She thought once again about turning back, but her curiosity was getting the better of her fear. Hearing voices further along, she followed the sound and soon found herself in a narrow corridor with a single door, which was ajar, a line of dim light gleaming from the room beyond.

She crept to the door and peered around the jamb cautiously. The corridor was dark and the room beyond fitfully lit, so hopefully no one would see her.

What she saw made her eyes widen in shock. The room was filled with men— but were they truly men? Many of their heads appeared misshapen, and some wore what looked like masks over their faces or part of their faces. Odd bits of bone were attached to the shaved pates of others. There had been a steady murmur of conversation when she had first heard them, but now, as the three men she had followed strode up the center aisle of the room, all conversation ceased. At the far end of the room, a large carved chair was set upon a raised dais. It was to this chair that Lord Aizen walked. He turned, and his gaze swept the room.

Orihime thought her eyes couldn't widen any further. Aizen was no longer wearing his spectacles. He had swept his thick brown hair back from his forehead, and revealed, his huge brown eyes were beautiful, mesmerizing— and terrifying. He seated himself gracefully in the chair.

"Good evening, my dear Espada." His voice was every bit as deep and resonant as she remembered. But what was he involved in here? Her mind flared with suspicion. Something was very wrong. "The moment we have been awaiting has arrived."

Suddenly, an arm as powerful an iron cable grabbed her around the neck and dragged her roughly down and back. Her arms were bent painfully backwards as she cried out in agony. Whoever held her pulled her into the room and threw her down onto the splintery planking, and then placed a foot on her back to hold her down. The room had gone deadly silent and all Orihime could hear was the ferocious pounding of her own heart.

"It seems you had a spy at the door," said a monotone voice above her.

She heard footsteps coming closer. "Lift her up so I can see her face, Ulquiorra," commanded Aizen's deep voice.

Orihime gasped as the man lifted her with careless strength and pulled her head back by the hair until her eyes met Aizen's. The man gazed at her calmly with no expression of surprise.

"Lady Inoue," he said politely. "What brings you here?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 3**

**Warning: **A little limey at the end.

(Originally posted 9/22/11. Edited 9/24/11 to place Aizen in period costume; thanks to **rootali** for the suggestion.)

XxXxXxX

Orihime found her voice. "Release me at once, you wretch!" she cried, trying to yank her arms free from the man who held her like an iron vise. He did not budge an inch.

Aizen had seated himself again on his chair. His face now wore a faint smirk as he watched Orihime's struggles. "Ulquiorra. You may release her. She can't go anywhere from here, anyway." He rested his chin on his knuckles and regarded her. "My dear Lady Inoue. Whatever are you doing here?"

She glared at him as she was released from the other man's grip. Her mind was still reeling from the double shock of discovering the supposedly trustworthy Lord Aizen in a clandestine meeting, and then being discovered and captured. She rose from the floor with as much dignity as she could manage, dusting off her velvet gown, which was much the worse for wear after being rolled over the dirty floor. She adjusted her shawl and stood very straight. She wavered between anger at Aizen's betrayal, fear of her own situation, and distress at the combination. So Aizen had been deceiving everyone all along. From his association here with the people in this room, it was clear that he was engaged in criminal activity.

She knew if she looked at the group of menacing faces all around her she might give in to her fear, so she focused only on Aizen's somewhat familiar face. It was, however, no longer kindly and mild. Perhaps it was a mistake to look at him, for what frightened her most of all was that the kind, welcoming expression was gone, replaced by a glance of arrogant, careless power. His face was suddenly much more handsome without the spectacles, but also much more intimidating. She realized, as well, that he looked a great deal younger. Could this be Sousuke Aizen's younger brother? Then she realized, as she stared into his eyes, that no, it was the same person.

It slipped out before she could stop herself. "How old are you?" she wondered. "You don't look thirty-five."

Aizen regarded her, and then said, "No. I'm twenty-six."

"But you—"

"I… misled the council ten years ago. Surely you have heard the tragic story of how the previous Lord Shinji and so many of my family members died in a terrible accident, requiring the family to turn to a distant cousin to lead the estate?" Aizen said in a calm voice. "I was underage at the time, only sixteen, so in order to succeed to the position, I said I was twenty-five." He sighed mockingly. "Spectacles do add that air of maturity. I assured the council that it must have been clean living that kept me so youthful in appearance."

She stared at him, suddenly wondering if he had been responsible for that accident that she had indeed heard of. But could he truly have arranged such a horrific crime at only sixteen years of age?

"But you haven't answered my question," he repeated calmly. "What are you doing here?"

She decided to go on the offensive. "I saw you sneaking out of the palace gardens, so I told my maidservant, Tatsuki, that I was going to follow you and see what you were doing. If I don't return soon she'll sound the alarm."

Aizen's smile only broadened at her threat. His eyes flicked to the silver-haired man standing beside him. "Gin. Return to the palace at once and find this Tatsuki— and kill her." His voice was as casual as though he were sending the man to buy a loaf of bread. His eyes returned to Orihime's horror-stricken face.

The thin man bowed his head, his grin never wavering. "At once, Lord Aizen." He turned and started walking toward the door.

"No!" she cried. Horror swept through her that she might have risked Tatsuki's life. "No, don't do it! I wasn't telling the truth. I snuck out after you without telling anyone! No one knows I'm here! Don't hurt Tatsuki; she doesn't know anything."

"Hold," said Aizen, straightening in his chair, and Gin immediately stopped and waited. Aizen raised his eyebrows. "How do I know you're telling the truth now, Lady Inoue, when you admit that you are quite willing to lie to save your skin?"

Orihime's cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry." She faltered, then regrouped as she found her anger again. "You scared me!" She looked around the room. "Here I thought you were an honest, upstanding man, and now I find you sneaking out in the middle of the night and threatening to kill people. And what is this meeting all about, anyway?"

A man with hair an unlikely shade of blue muttered, "Aizen, honest and upstanding?" and there were a few snickers from around the room at her outburst, but when Aizen held up a hand, they immediately quieted.

"I believe I was asking the questions, Lady Inoue." He gazed at her steadily. "I'm going to trust you this time, and will spare the life of your maidservant."

Orihime let out her breath. The words "thank you" were on the tip of her tongue, but she refused to speak them in the face of her dawning horror. "How can you do this?" she asked. "The Sousuke Aizen I knew would never have threatened to kill an innocent woman."

The smirk on Aizen's face appeared to be perpetual now. "The Sousuke Aizen you knew, my dear, was an illusion."

"So what are you then in reality?" she asked. Her blood chilled. "Are you the traitor who is working with the King of Las Noches and his pirates?"

Aizen's smile widened as he rested his chin in his hand. "Oh, no, my dear Lady Inoue. I'm afraid it's much worse than that. You see, I am the King of Las Noches, and my pirates work for me."

XxXxXxX

Orihime wasn't sure how much time had passed. It was still dark outside, as she could tell from the tiny, high window in the small room that had become her prison cell. Aizen had ordered Ulquiorra to bind her and "keep her safe."

Before he had had her led away, the brown-haired man had mused, his eyes on Orihime, "You've created quite a conundrum for me, I'm afraid. You see, tonight is an important night, and your presence here interferes with my plans."

Orihime scowled at him again. "I'm glad to be interfering with them." She beetled her brows. "Why don't you just release me?"

"Oh, I couldn't do that, my dear," he said smoothly. "I have a limited number of choices as to what to do with you." He stared at her for a moment as her heart pounded and her knees felt weak.

"I could kill you," he said carelessly as he watched her reaction. She could feel the blood draining out of her face, but vowed to herself that she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing fear. "That would be the most logical choice, I admit. Alive, you're only a hindrance and a nuisance to me. There would be the constant danger of your escaping and revealing my plans to my enemies."

She stared at him, feeling as though all the strength had been sucked out of her body. This was the pirate king of Las Noches, she realized anew, the man who already had so much blood on his hands… She thought of all the coastal villages that had been sacked, all the ships sent to the bottom of the sea, their crews lost… surely he would think nothing of killing one more small woman.

Well, if that was how it was going to be… She raised her chin. She was an Inoue, a proud member of an ancient family. She would go to her death with dignity. She faced the man she had thought she trusted. "Very well then. Kill me. But before you do, at least explain to me why you're doing this. You're a powerful member of the ruling council of Seireitei. Why would you stoop to piracy?"

Aizen shook his head with bemusement. "Curious to the end, Lady Inoue. Has anyone ever told you that curiosity killed the cat?"

Orihime took a deep breath. Now that she knew she was going to die, she felt an odd calm steal over her. She sighed ruefully. "Yes, Aunt Rangiku was always warning me about that."

He chuckled. "You should have heeded her."

"I don't know. She was wrong about other things. She said I could trust you."

Aizen laughed out loud at that. "You're quite amusing, my dear. It would be a shame to end your life so young." He regarded her once again. "Very well. I'll let you live—for now. You're to be my prisoner. I suggest that you not attempt escape." His gaze was level. "Your friend Tatsuki and other members of your family will be hostage to your good behavior. Should you try to escape, or to sabotage my plans in any way, I will send assassins to your home to eliminate Tatsuki, your Aunt Rangiku, and any other relatives and friends of yours I deem appropriate. Do you understand?"

Shivering, she had nodded.

He had then issued orders for Ulquiorra to tie her up and lock her in the small room.

Alone in the darkness, with her wrists and ankles uncomfortably bound, hungry and thirsty, in the room that was none too clean, with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company, Orihime felt burning regret at her foolishness at running off the way she had. Tatsuki, Sora, Aunt Rangiku all rose up in her feverish brain to chastise her once again. She was far too reckless, and in the past it had usually led only one person into trouble—her. Now, all her family members were at risk due to her stupidity. She blinked tears away from her eyes. She had led a comfortable, halcyon life with nothing worse than an arranged marriage on the horizon. But now, everything was over for her; she realized that it was unlikely that Aizen would ever release her. He could not let anyone know he held her, so any hope of being ransomed was in vain.

She wondered why he had chosen to spare her life. As he had said, the logical action for him to take was to kill her. Her heart chilled as she realized that he must have some use for her in mind, and that it was not likely to be pleasant. Determinedly, she turned her mind away from those thoughts.

Eventually, despite the discomforts of her body, she slept.

XxXxXxX

She was awakened by the sun streaming into the small room through the dirty window. Her arms and legs were cramping in their unaccustomed positions, and the bindings were cutting painfully into her flesh.

The door rattled, and her captor from the previous evening entered. The man was slight, with shaggy black hair, piercing green eyes, and odd markings on his completely expressionless face. He walked in without greeting and stooped to cut her bindings.

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her wrists and ankles to get the circulation started back in them. "What is happening now?"

"You are to be taken elsewhere," the man said, his voice completely neutral.

"But where?" asked Orihime, her voice rising with her insistence. "What is going on?"

He ignored her and continued with some preparation she couldn't see. As she twisted around, he brought a pungent rag to her face and held it over her nose and mouth with his inhuman strength. Chloroform, she realized as she gasped and sputtered. Too late, she tried to hold her breath, but instead she fell into darkness.

She awoke with a pounding headache in a much different room. Her wrists and ankles had been bandaged, and she was still wearing the same blue velvet gown; however, looking down at herself, she could see that it had been brushed clean, although there was still a long rip down the side of the dress and a matching one in her petticoat. Her shoes and stockings were gone and her feet were bare, and she blushed at the thought that someone had removed her stockings and garters while she lay defenseless. But as she mentally checked herself internally, she noted with relief that she was uninjured except for the chafing at her wrists and ankles and a few bruises.

She tried to lift her head and regretted it immediately as the room spun about her. She lay back down on the pillow, and realized to her surprise that she was lying on a soft and comfortable bed. The room was rocking back and forth, and it took a moment for her to understand that it was not an artifact of her befuddled brain. The bed she was lying on was indeed rocking, and the light entering the room came from a small round porthole covered with thick glass at one end of the room. She could hear creaking all around her. She opened and closed her eyes a few times, and as she looked once again at her surroundings it became clear that she was on a ship.

She pushed herself to a seated position slowly, and then stumbled to the porthole over the pitching floor. They were out on the open sea, the deep green waves rolling gently off to the far horizon under a brilliant blue sky. Off to one side were three other sailing ships keeping formation with the vessel she was on. She peered at the flag on the closest one: it was black and white, and the wind was whipping it back and forth. As her eyes focused on it, she saw that it depicted a reversed crescent moon on a black background.

Her heart clenched in her chest. So it had all been true. She had fallen into the hands of the pirate King of Las Noches, and was now a prisoner on one of his ships, somewhere on the open ocean. She took a deep breath.

She looked around the cabin once more. Although compact, it was paneled in beautiful woods, the walls covered with cunningly wrought, overstuffed bookshelves and trim cabinetry built into the walls in every available cranny. A chased silver lamp swung from a chain attached to the ceiling. She ran her hand over the coverlet beneath her, bearing a rich and complex embroidered pattern over satin sheets. This was no prison cell; it was quite a luxurious cabin for a sailing ship. She sat up straight, her blood chilling at the thought of whose cabin it might be.

She swung to her feet and went over to the trim door at one end of the cabin. Placing her fingers on the handle, she was surprised when it turned and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Beyond was a narrow but tidy corridor. A man standing on guard outside the door looked up as she opened the door and met her eyes, coming to attention and placing a hand on the sword that hung at his belt. Firming her lips, she closed the door again and retreated into the room, sitting on the bed once more to regroup.

Her eyes lit upon a silver pitcher, a small metal cup, and a plate with an assortment of bread and cheese, and her stomach growled. She was ravenously hungry. She carried the food over to the bed and sat down to eat.

She was cleaning up the last bit of crumbs when the door opened again. She was not surprised to see Aizen enter the cabin. But he was dressed quite differently from how she had last seen him. He was wearing a black crushed velvet shirt, laced in the front, with puffy satin sleeves and frothy cuffs at both slender wrists. A sword hung from a broad black belt encircling his waist, and his long slender legs were enclosed in black trousers tucked into tall black boots. He paused in the doorway and regarded her with the expression of a predator about to swallow its prey. He deliberately ran his gaze along the length of her body, lingering on her full bosom peeping out from under the lacy neckline of the blue velvet gown, his eyes then traveling lazily down to her small waist and one shapely leg visible through the tear in the gown. She felt heat rising on her face at his scrutiny and self-consciously pulled the two panels of fabric together over her legs. He raised his eyes back to her face and smiled again. "Greetings, Lady Inoue. You are quite beautiful, my dear; your portrait didn't do you justice."

She shook her hair back from her face and glared at him defiantly, her heart pounding in her chest. He inclined his head at the plate on her lap and said, "I trust you found your accommodations and cuisine satisfactory? We live more simply here than you are no doubt used to."

He did not wait for her answer, but opened one of the cabinets near the door and folded down a wooden bench, which he then straddled, facing her. It was still something of a shock for her to see him like this, so different in appearance and personality from the man she had thought he was, with his thick brown hair swept back from his face, only a single curl hanging between his deep brown eyes. The laces on his shirt were partially open, exposing a goodly amount of well-muscled chest; several gold chains hung about his slender throat, winking in the lamplight. His casual outfit, so unlike the formal costumes men of her class usually wore, drove home again to her that this was a dangerous man, a pirate and murderer. Nevertheless, she found herself unconsciously eying the movements of his slender, muscular legs beneath his trousers. She mentally slapped herself. What was she doing?

She tried to shake the dizziness and confusion out of her head. She would need all her wits about her now to deal with this man. She met his gaze evenly. "Where am I? And what are you going to do with me?"

He smiled at that. "Direct as always. You're not one for small talk, are you?" He tilted his head and ran a hand studded with gold rings through his hair as he regarded her. "You're in the captain's cabin on my flagship, the _Mirror Flower_. We're sailing to our next rendezvous with the remainder of my fleet. You'll forgive me if I don't give you every detail of my military plans at this moment, since you are technically still the enemy." He gave her a charming smile and bent his gaze on her with full intensity. "I hope to change your mind about that," he murmured, reaching one long-fingered hand to her face and stroking her cheek delicately.

She gasped and drew back. Her face had tingled at his touch, but fear was rising in her at this confirmation of her suspicion of what use a pirate might find for her. "You wouldn't…" she choked out.

Aizen's glance turned dark. "My dear Lady Inoue," he said silkily, "you should consider your position. You are here, on my ship, my prisoner. No one knows you are here; they don't even know if you're alive or dead. You're surrounded by my men and by the open sea. You have nowhere to run and are utterly defenseless." His smirk widened. "Indeed, you are completely at my mercy." His eyes glittered and she could see something burning deep within them. "I can do with you as I please and no one will know or care."

He swung up from the bench and sat on the bed beside her as she shrank away. She could feel the warmth of his firm body as he pressed himself against her, could smell his faintly woodsy, briny scent as he leaned over her and plunged both hands into her thick hair, stroking it back from her face and making her shiver. "No…" she said, bringing her small hands up to his chest to push him away.

He drew back briefly and contemplated her. "You continue to resist. Did we not have an agreement, that you would cooperate in return for your friends' lives?"

She summoned all her will to glare at him ferociously. "Cooperation as in not trying to escape or sabotaging your ship. That's a far cry from assaulting me."

He raised his eyebrows. "Assault? What a strong word. Here I invite you into the comfort of my own cabin, provide you with creature comforts that my own men do not receive, and all you can do is verbally abuse me?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It seems to me that the abuse was about to go the other way. If you will not respect the law, at least consider common decency."

He smiled and cupped her cheek with his hand again. "Such harsh rebukes. I am offering you a favor that many would beg for, my dear. And perhaps I should remind you that a pirate has no use for either laws or decency."

She stiffened under his touch. "No matter that you have chosen to lower yourself to becoming a criminal, you were born a noble and so should understand our ways. I am not one of your servants or playthings, Lord Aizen. I am at the very least your equal by birth and as such deserve respect."

He had continued to smile throughout her short speech, a look of polite attention on his face as he waited for her to finish speaking. He had not moved from his spot on the bed right beside her. His face was very close to hers now, and his fingers were at her throat, delicately running along the neckline of her gown. She could feel the heat rising in her face— and in her core. She could not deny that he was strikingly handsome, and the strong, leanly muscled body pressed against her was making her feel stranger than Aunt Rangiku's most salacious stories ever had. Her body was tingling all over and she felt an odd electricity at her core.

He said softly, "What you deserve and what you want may be two different things… Orihime." He leaned forward and one hand slipped around the back of her head as his lips brushed against hers. She shivered as his lips skimmed warmly against her own. The sound of her given name spoken by his deep voice made her feel like her center was turning into molten gold. She took a deep breath and her chest heaved. One of his fingers traced a line down her throat to her neckline, where it slipped underneath her dress and teased the sensitive skin of her bosom. She blushed at the wicked thrill of his touch like lightning forking up and down her body. A lady in her position did not do such things; it was wrong, so very wrong.

Aizen was nibbling gently at her lower lip, and she realized that both her hands were flat against his chest but she was not pushing him away. She could feel the play of his muscles underneath the black velvet against her fingers, and to her horror she realized that she wanted to touch him more, to explore more of that beautiful body as he was now exploring her. She knew she should be fighting him, but her body felt completely paralyzed. She took another deep, shaky breath as his lips caressed the corner of her mouth and then laid a line of gentle kisses along her jawline.

A loud buzzer sounded in the room.

Orihime started and Aizen drew back from her with a frown. There was a slight flush over the smooth, translucent skin of his throat, and his breathing had accelerated. But within a second or two his face was once more composed. "Please forgive me, my lady," he said formally as he stood and picked up a speaking tube hanging on the wall near the door.

"Yes?" he asked, and then listened to the reply. After another few moments he said, "On my way," and returned the speaking tube to its holder.

His face once again calm and betraying no emotions, he turned to Orihime with a gentlemanly bow. "I am truly sorry, my dear, but my presence is urgently requested on deck. I will leave you now, but I promise to return at my earliest convenience." Not waiting for a response, he swept out of the room, leaving Orihime alone and feeling oddly let down. The room seemed suddenly empty without his larger-than-life presence filling the small cabin.

She probed her own thoughts, a flush of embarrassment suffusing her face. Surely, she had not wanted him to have his way with her. She was a virtuous woman, promised in marriage to another, regardless of her current situation. Her honor demanded that she defend her virtue.

But she found herself wondering what she would do when Aizen returned. She felt confused. It occurred to her that although she might be a prisoner here, in some ways she was free of certain strictures of her past life.

Her hand went up to toy with the neckline of her gown, and she slid her own fingers beneath the fabric, stroked the sensitive skin there, slipped her fingers into the valley between her breasts where recently those long, elegant, warm fingers had caressed her… and she remembered that tingle she had never felt before in her life. Her breathing quickened, and a tiny, traitorous voice whispered in her mind that no one could blame her for cooperating, given her situation, and especially since her friends might be in danger… she really didn't have any choice, did she?

She closed her eyes and sagged back onto the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 4**

**Warning:** Lemon in this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. All characters are 18 or older in this story.

(Originally posted 9/29/11, edited 11/12/11.)

XxXxXxX

Orihime had slept, exhausted from her ordeal. When she woke up, the porthole was dark, and the lamp above her head had been lit, casting its soft yellow light around the cabin and making all the wood paneling glow. She sighed. If it had not been for her situation, she would have enjoyed the cozy atmosphere and the adventure of being out on the open ocean. But as it was, her mind kept trying to figure a way out of the trap without endangering her family and friends. Her heart sank again as despair at her captivity threatened to overwhelm her.

How could Lord Aizen, whom everybody believed to have been a good, kind man, have turned out to be such a rogue? As she wondered, the idea struck her that what she needed most now was to understand her captor. There was really nothing else she could do. She would have to… cooperate with him, figure out what made him tick. She needed that information before she could decide what strategy to take next, how to keep both herself and her friends alive. Her heart began to pound again, but this time with excitement at the new possibilities and the chance of satisfying her curiosity. Aunt Rangiku always said that no one was better at figuring out what was going on than her… and that nothing made her happier than the unraveling of a good mystery.

Her musings were interrupted as the door opened and Aizen entered the room again, smiling at her as he noticed she was awake. The laces on his black velvet shirt had been further undone at the front, drawing her eyes unwillingly to his well-muscled chest and the gold chains glinting against the smooth skin of his throat. He sat down on the bed beside her and began unbuckling his high black boots. "Did you sleep well during your nap, my dear?" He picked up her hand in his warm one and brought it to his lips, his eyes on her face.

She shivered again at his touch. But she couldn't help herself. "Well enough for being kidnapped and kept here against my will." She couldn't stop the glare, despite her new resolve to cooperate.

But Aizen only chuckled as he moved closer to her. "I know. It's an intriguing situation, is it not?" His smile was dark. "I must say, I've never found myself in such a position before. I find it quite… fascinating." Idly, he reached out one hand to toy with her hair, running his fingers through her curls, a possessive gleam rising in his eyes.

"What? You mean you're not usually in the habit of kidnapping innocent girls?" Her voice was tart. "Isn't that what pirates and villains are expected to do? You're falling down on the job."

He laughed again and paused, studying her. "You're not altogether what I expected either."

Her brow furrowed. "What did you expect?"

He didn't answer right away, but rose with a fluid motion, went to one of the cabinets in the wall and, taking a tiny golden key from a pocket, unlocked a small drawer. He began undoing the cuffs on his satin sleeves, removing the cufflinks, sliding rings off his long fingers and placing them inside the drawer. Orihime noticed a faint blue glow pulsating from the drawer, and curious, shifted her position slightly so she had a better view of the contents of the drawer. The glow appeared to be coming from what looked like a large blue jewel the size of a walnut. She quickly averted her eyes as Aizen turned back toward her, closing the drawer so it latched with a small click. "From a pampered princess of the Seireitei? Well, more hysteria, more crying… perhaps a bit of fainting." He gazed at her, one brow raised. "Certainly more boring. The women of your class are typically so… shallow and unintelligent." His face creased with mild distaste.

Orihime gave a wry frown. "Well, I'm pleased I meet with your approval," she said, unable to keep a note of sarcasm from her tone, even as an inner voice chided her for her brashness. "Can you at least tell me more of what's going on then?" Again unbidden, this time a note of pleading entered her voice.

He gazed at her with a speculative expression. "Still curious, eh?" He raised one brow. "I can tell you this. I—and my allies—are preparing for a major offensive against Seireitei. The ruling council and that fool Yamamoto have completely underestimated the strength of the pirates of Las Noches."

"No doubt encouraged by Lord Aizen's sage advice about the power of Seireitei and the insignificance of any pirate fleets, as you yourself said to me." The tartness in her voice was fueled by her worry for her family and her people, defenseless in the Seireitei now.

Aizen chuckled again. "Too true. They were so foolish to trust my advice, were they not?" He sat down beside her again, lifted a hand in a careless gesture to stroke her cheek with the tips of his fingers. He brought his lips to her ear; his warm breath brushed past her sensitive skin as he whispered, "So foolish to trust _me_." She was trembling involuntarily, and she felt his lips curve in a smile against her ear. "Nevertheless, that is no longer of any concern to you. You are mine now, and your fate will rise or fall with mine." He drew back to watch her reaction, his eyes sharp and amused as he took in the nuances of her expression.

"Yours?" Again, anger rose in her at his assumption of ownership. "And what truly happened to those members of your family who died in that _accident_? Was their fate tied to yours?" She bit her tongue, cursing her impulsive streak, once more leading her into trouble.

His eyes flickered, and something she did not recognize rose in them. "Ah. So you have heard that rumor." There was a pause, and then his eyes darkened and a faint smile curved his lips. "They met the fate of all who get in the way of my obtaining what I want."

She drew back in terror, his unspoken threat hanging in the air between them. Her breath had become ragged as she stared at him, her eyes wide. His gaze flicked over her face and body, lingering on her exposed throat, and she saw the heat rising in his eyes again. "Do not resist me any more, Orihime."

She quivered as he bent his head to her neck and kissed her with surprising gentleness, beginning at the shell of her ear and working his way downward to the hollow of her throat, and then even further, to her bosom. The warm touch of his lips was thrilling, overpowering, overwhelming her reason and her good sense as her blood rushed to her face and her body weakened. Part of her mind beat against her, insisting that she fight, scream, somehow attack this criminal, this scoundrel, this… beautiful but evil man who, it seemed, was taking over her body and laying claim to her very soul. It was so very wrong of her to feel this way. She sat, immobile, her skin on fire, her thoughts tangling, her body seemingly unable to take any action to oppose this man, as the tingling at her skin arrowed its way straight to her core, emotions of terror and exaltation mingling inside her in a ferocious and confusing storm. Her mind blurred as she looked down at his head of tousled brown hair between her breasts, felt his soft kisses like warm petals on her skin, felt the urgency of his body yearning towards hers.

At last he sat up, his eyes hazed and throat flushed, that deadly smirk on his face once more as he gazed at her sitting motionless on the bed, her eyes wide and locked on his, her body suffused with thrilling and terrifying warmth. She knew he had felt her treacherous body's submission, and now he was going to take his time with his conquest. He stretched lazily and she watched the muscles ripple on his chest. Leaning back, he began to unlace his shirt, and her eyes were drawn as though on a cord to his long fingers as they undid the laces, exposing more of his well-defined chest lightly dusted with fine brown hair.

She took a tremulous breath. "Wh-where are you going to sleep tonight?" she asked, cursing herself as a quaver entered her voice.

"Why, here, of course, in my own bed." His deep voice was amused.

"I want a bed of my own."

"No." His tone brooked no argument. "You will sleep here, with me."

A little desperate now, she asked, "Why? Why do you want me?"

He smirked again. "You mean, other than that you're a beautiful virgin of noble birth who wantonly invaded my lair in the middle of the night, and willingly placed herself at my mercy?" She flushed. "And that now I'm savoring the delightful and novel sensation of having someone like you completely within my power?" His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, a dark glitter deep within his heavily lidded eyes; he moved closer to her with languid grace, sliding one hand up her thigh under her drawers through the slits in her gown and petticoat. His fingers traced a pattern on her skin and she gasped. "Taking you will pleasure me." His face was only inches away from her now, his huge, beautiful eyes locked on hers, his body pressing against her bosom as his fingers moved teasingly up her inner thigh. "Suffice it to say that I do want you. And I always get what I want."

With that he closed the distance between them and his lips were on hers, hard and demanding. She tried to push him away, but her arms were boneless. His fingers dancing between her legs reached their destination and her body ignited. She gasped as though she had been plunged into a shower of sparks, a fire that burned but caused no pain but only delight. As her mouth opened involuntarily against his lips, he took advantage, his tongue entering her and exploring her until she lay helpless against his invasion. His mouth tasted of complex spices; his aroma was heady and intoxicating and her head spun. He pressed her down onto the bed with the weight of his body; her arms lifted against her will to encircle his torso, to clutch at the back of his shirt as the firm muscles along his spine flexed under her fingers; all the while his tongue was delving into her mouth and his fingers were drawing intricate, expert patterns between her legs and slyly insinuating themselves into her drawers.

He was caressing her, taking her intimately, _handling_ her in a way no one ever had. No one else had ever even kissed her, much less dared to approach her like this, to breach all her barriers and _possess_ her, down to the core of her being. Her skin quivered as pleasure bloomed all over her body; as if her very soul had been laid bare and his fingers and tongue were plucking at the roots of not only her body but her emotions. Involuntarily, she relaxed in his arms and moaned against his mouth. As his fingers reached further under her drawers and he stroked her more deeply, unconsciously she thrust her hips against his hand and he laughed deep in his throat.

"See?" he murmured, his voice vibrating against her skin. "It's not so bad after all, is it?"

She was feverish and confused; she found herself clinging to him, unable to decide if her agony was a result of his touch or the lost remnants of her pride. He laid her down on the bed and unfastened the back of her dress, his clever fingers making quicker work of the buttons than she ever had; she was always clumsy with fastenings. As he opened the bodice of her dress, it fell away, exposing the skin above her large, soft breasts held firmly in place by her corset. His fingers stroked her heated skin and she blushed. Then he was rapidly unlacing her stays, and the confining corset she had always hated fell open and away from her body and she could finally breathe. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, as she felt the air cool on her breasts. His deep brown eyes stared down at her, hazed with lust, as his sinful fingers played now with her nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until they became erect and her breath hitched and he smiled once again. He bent his head to kiss her between her breasts and his curl of brown hair tickled the skin of her bosom. She shivered as he attacked her relentlessly, his hands and lips finding their way everywhere about her body.

Somehow he had undressed himself in the dimness of the cabin, and her clothing lay in a pile on the floor. She had never thought much about being naked; she did not spend much time unclothed as it was typically only during her bath where she was attended only by Tatsuki. But now she was aware of her nakedness as she never had been before, as he looked at her and she knew he was seeing her completely unclothed, completely vulnerable to him, watching her with that glitter in his eyes and that faint smirk on his full lips; and as she looked upon a nude man for the first time in her life and sighed as she saw he was beautiful.

He was tall and well-muscled but lean; when he moved it was with an unconscious grace but an overpowering strength that made her feel weak. She was nervous when she saw his arousal nested in thick mahogany hair, the tip gleaming in the lamplight; Rangiku had spoken to her of the ways men and women lay together but she had not truly understood. He pressed up against her, guided her fingers to his length, sighed with pleasure at her touch as she hesitantly swirled her fingers around him.

She was surprised and embarrassed to notice that she was wet between her legs, but he told her to hush, and said it was normal. He stroked her again with his fingers, fondled her deeply inside until she cried out with intense sensation, not once or twice but more times than she could remember; and then finally he positioned himself at her entrance and she stared up at him in wide-eyed panic; he slowly, slowly, with infinite patience, slipped within her until she enclosed him; it did not hurt as she expected; it felt oddly satisfying, as though she were somehow complete, as though all her life she had been waiting for this one thing, for this one person to breach her defenses and enter her, for this beautiful man to say that he wanted her with an intensity that she had never thought one human being could feel for another; and as his body rose and fell on hers, her own reached up to meet his; his lips sought out hers and she welcomed them; she opened her mouth gladly to encircle him; laid her entire body open to his will, submissive to his demands and his every desire; for she was his; his now and forever; and it was not a taking but a joining as the world went away and she fell into that dark, primal ocean deep within.


	5. Chapter 5

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 5**

**A/N: **I did not originally plan another lemon in this chapter, but when Aizen and Orihime woke up in bed together… well; let's just say that the characters took on a life of their own.

**Warning:** Lemon.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. All characters are 18 or older in this story.

(Originally posted 10/7/11, edited 11/12/11.)

XxXxXxX

Orihime opened her eyes after a night of disturbing dreams to realize that she was nude, rocking gently in a luxurious bed in a galleon on the open sea, and wrapped from behind in the arms of a man. He lay curled around her as she faced the porthole with the faint light of dawn just beginning to tint the cabin. She could feel his warm, firm flesh pressed against her back, could feel the unaccustomed soreness in her own body, and she flushed. The confusing memories of last night flooded into her mind.

She had enjoyed it, she realized, appalled. She had enjoyed an act which should only have been performed with her lawfully married husband. She was disgraced, and disgraceful to have found pleasure in lovemaking with a scoundrel and pirate. Tears began to quietly overflow her eyes and slip down her cheeks to pool on the satin sheets.

Her virtue was gone, taken by a rogue and criminal. There was no hope for her anymore; even if she were rescued, she would be seen as nothing more than a pirate's whore, unfit for ruling a noble domain. Her life as she had known it was over.

There was another factor that she almost didn't want to acknowledge as she lay listening to the rhythmic breathing of the man who held her. Her treacherous mind whispered to her that maybe she had never truly wanted to resist Aizen, that, even aside from the pleasure she felt with him, that it wasn't so bad to be his… woman. She finally admitted to herself that she had been miserable ever since Sora had died and she had been thrust into the role of ruler of the Inoue domain. It was not a role she felt comfortable with. She had hated being responsible for so many lives, and had felt the weight of her decisions like a soul-crushing burden. With her capture, one of the emotions she had secretly felt was relief… relief from the unbearable responsibilities of rulership… relief that at this point all decisions were out of her hands… relief that she could no longer be blamed if she made a mistake.

She felt a new resolve firm within her. She had nothing left, and in many ways she was freer than she had ever been, oddly enough, so it was time to make the best of her situation. Her tears dried up and she began to think about what she could do in this new life of hers.

She still had her duties to her domain and her country. Those obligations she would never renounce. From birth, she had always considered the lives of her people first, and that would not change. Aizen was planning to attack the Seireitei, so it was her duty to try to foil his plans however possible. Perhaps she could pretend to go along with him, and then somehow attack him? She frowned as she considered this. If he trusted her enough to sleep naked beside her, he would be vulnerable. A knife, poison, a cord around his throat in his sleep—all could end the threat to the Seireitei before it had even begun.

But even as she thought of it, she knew she couldn't go through with such an idea. One of her besetting flaws, as Aunt Rangiku had often sighed, was her incurable compassion. She knew she could not take a life. Perhaps not even in self-defense, and certainly not in cold blood.

She sighed. No, she could not defend the Seireitei by killing Aizen as he slept. There had to be another way. Finding out more about his plans, then sending word back to the mainland? She shook her head mentally. No; who here could she trust to communicate any information? She was completely isolated.

As she lay in the soft bed in the arms of her captor, another idea began to form in her mind. What if she could _persuade_ him to give up the idea of attacking her homeland? He was intelligent and perceptive; that was quite clear. The conversation the two of them had engaged in upon their first meeting in the royal palace of the Seireitei, which now seemed so long ago, had been exhilarating. She _wanted_ to understand how his mind worked, to be able to communicate with him.

For one thing, why did he want to do all this in the first place? He was from the Seireitei as well. Why plan to destroy his own country? With the king's weakness, he could still move to take power in the ruling council. She frowned. It was a puzzle. With Aizen's intelligence, she didn't understand why he had become a traitor, why he had come up with this elaborate scheme about the legendary island of Las Noches. Why the whole rigmarole with pirates? It just didn't make sense. If he wanted power, the logical move would have been to play politics in the ruling council. He could easily raise an army from within his powerful domain; he had no need to go outside. Was there something else she was missing, some critical factor she had overlooked?

She firmed her lips and felt her eyes narrow. So again, as she had thought the day before, the true path lay in trying to understand her captor. Understand his motives, and then try to persuade him out of his plans.

She stirred slightly and felt his arms tighten around her. His lips brushed her ear and she heard once again his impossibly deep voice.

"Good morning, Orihime. I trust you slept well?" He shifted in the bed and turned her to face him, his strong arms wrapping around her body. Her eyes met his deep brown ones and once again she felt a little shock at the beauty of his features. He did not wait for her to answer, his lips curling in a smirk a moment before he took her mouth in a possessive kiss. She resisted at first, purely out of habit, then sighed inwardly and allowed him to deepen the kiss, to plunge his tongue deep into her mouth and taste her thoroughly. Shamefully, she felt again the heat at her core as he laid his powerfully built body against hers and she felt his hardness stirring to life against her inner thighs.

His fingers threaded into her hair, holding her head in place as he took his time exploring her mouth, pinning her body down with one lean, muscular leg. She was utterly trapped, completely unable to move or even make a sound as one of his hands reached down and began stroking her naked breasts, and then slipped between her thighs. It was strange and somehow utterly thrilling to be held so thoroughly captive by this man as his long fingers sparked pleasure all through her body. Her loins began to ache and she moaned against his mouth, lifting her hands to run her own fingers through his thick hair.

He was beautiful. Utterly gorgeous from his lush, wavy hair down to his high-arched, narrow feet. Although it was truly disgraceful, a part of her could not help but feel a sinful delight at being able to indulge herself in giving and receiving pleasure from him. It was an extravagance she had never dreamed of being able to enjoy, even in her most secret and sensual girlhood fantasies.

His fingers were tracing circles on her skin as he kissed her throat, opening his mouth so that his teeth grazed her skin. He drew his head downward, nipping and sucking at the skin of her throat. His mouth trailed a line of kisses over the curve of her bosom. She gasped at the intensity of sensation as he licked her nipples and then took each one within his mouth. At the same time the fingers of one hand had found the hair between her legs and were stroking there, teasing, caressing, dancing. The tingling spread throughout her entire body; she arched up to meet him and gave a long, warbling cry.

He laughed deep in his throat as his fingers entered her and moved against her slick entrance. She could not help moaning and crying out, her hands fluttering to his back, her grip settling on his shoulders as his muscles worked beneath the skin. She could feel nothing but him, see nothing but his face, smell nothing but his scent hanging all around her and seeming to fill her to her very core. The pleasure built and built in her as he stroked her and she clutched him fiercely. As the pleasure peaked and ripped through her body, she could not help herself; she found herself screaming.

His eyes, looking down at her, narrowed with satisfaction at the sound tearing from her throat. He moved into position over her and she felt his length like a rod of fire against her body. Her cheeks burned as she found herself bucking her hips toward him in invitation. On his face was that arrogant smirk that she wished she could wipe off his face, but that in her most secret heart she found, somehow, appealing. There was something about his assumption of ownership over her, indeed, his careless dominion of everything around him, that made her feel weak and trembling, but not fearful… instead, she was filled with yearning. She shivered and spread her legs as he lowered himself down on her. Why her body yearned for his with a fervor she had never before experienced was something her mind could not comprehend.

All she knew was that as he entered her, more rapidly than he had last night, she felt somehow gratified; he slipped in slickly and she felt her insides hugging him tightly. She gasped at the intensity of the sensation as he began moving, rising and falling with a rhythm as ancient as the sea, driving her hard against the bed. She felt sweaty and hot and thrilled and excited as he took her, laying his claim on her once again, marking her as his own, until at last she felt heat flood her deep within as he stiffened on her and shuddered, his eyes closed and a look of ecstasy on his face, and then her vision went white and she arched up into him once more, an inchoate series of screams ripping from her throat as her nails dug hard into the skin of his arms.

His body collapsed onto hers and they lay together, pressed tight one against the other, Orihime feeling anew the odd experience of having a man lying so close to her he was inside her, so intimately entwined with her it felt as though their hearts were beating as one.

They lay there, unmoving, for a very long time, until she thought he had drifted into sleep. But then, as he lay atop her, he kissed her gently. "So beautiful…" he whispered. "You are everything I dreamed you would be."

Her brow wrinkled. "How could you dream of me?" she asked, looking up into his mahogany eyes. "You couldn't have known you were going to capture me."

His smile was arch. "You might be surprised as to the extent of my plans, Orihime." He lifted himself off her and rolled to the edge of the bed, then sat up and began to draw on his clothes.

She watched him, puzzled and curious. Watching him dress almost distracted her from the swarm of questions buzzing in her mind. His motions were graceful and languid as he drew on each article of clothing. He smoothed his pants against slender legs, flexing those elegant toes that she suddenly felt an urge to kiss. She frowned to herself. She wanted to kiss every part of his body, to feel his warm, firm flesh under her tongue and lips. She shook her head, took a grip on herself. Time to start asking questions.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "You knew I was promised to Ichigo Kurosaki, have been promised to him since I was five. I was off-limits to everyone since then."

He smirked as he flexed his foot, unrolling a silk stocking slowly up a well-formed calf. "I've had my eye on you for quite a while, Orihime. I even had your portrait secretly commissioned. Off-limits?" He chuckled. "I don't acknowledge limitations on my desires. I had planned to take you as mine well before I arranged for us to meet in person at that memorable dinner only two nights ago." His glance was dark as Orihime stared at him, puzzled and fearful.

"How—" she faltered, "how could you have even known that we would sit together that evening?"

He gazed at her. "That was the simplest of all. I merely had Gin switch the place settings before the dinner began." He reached out and stroked her cheek, cupped her face in his hand possessively.

"So you've been scheming to kidnap me from the beginning?" She wasn't sure if she was angrier or more frightened.

"I'd hardly dignify such a simple operation with the term 'scheme,'" he said, smirking again. "Shall we say, I ensured that you would have a chance to converse with me at dinner, so that when I departed the gardens later that evening while you lurked in the shrubbery, a comment I made concerning the bride of Ichigo Kurosaki would pique your curiosity."

His smile was almost as wide as his servant Ichimaru's as Orihime's mouth dropped open in shock. "But why?" she asked, her mind whirling with the implications of his statement.

His face stilled and his smile dropped away. "Ah. You see, everything depended on whether I bedded you last night." His gaze upon her was oddly intense.

"But—" she began, completely confused.

At that moment there was a soft tap on the door. "Lord Aizen, sorry to disturb you, sir, but you are needed on deck," came a voice from the corridor.

"I'm on my way," Aizen said, raising his voice slightly. He had almost finished dressing. Drawing on his boots, he stood gracefully. He looked back at Orihime. "I will have breakfast brought to you."

"Please!" Orihime found herself seized by a longing to see more of the sea and her surroundings and wondered if he might have softened toward her. "Please let me come out on deck. I don't want to be trapped inside this cabin another day. I promise I'll behave."

He looked down at her for a moment, amusement evident in his eyes. "Indeed. I don't think you'll have much opportunity for misbehavior on a ship on the open ocean, crewed by my men." He laced up the last few eyelets in his shirt, drew the laces together over his chest. He eyed her speculatively. "More the other way around. But I can see how it would be difficult for you to be cooped up in a small cabin. I will send Ulquiorra for you later, have him give you a tour of the ship. Would you like that?" He smiled as her eyes lit up and she clasped her hands together eagerly.

When he had left, she finished dressing herself, sliding back into the torn velvet gown. Ruefully shaking her head over the slit in the skirt, she resolved to ask for sewing materials at once. But what did it mean that he had been— well— stalking her for years? She frowned. There was much more going on that it seemed on the surface.

XxXxXxX

There was a tap at the door and Orihime opened it to see the slender, black-haired man with brilliant green eyes waiting for her, his face expressionless. "Lord Aizen ordered me to show you around the ship. Are you ready?"

She nodded happily. "Oh, yes… Ulquiorra, is it?"

The only answer was a curt nod as he turned to go. She closed the cabin door behind her and scurried to catch up, stumbling only slightly on the pitching floor. The corridors were narrow and low, but paneled in beautiful woods, and Orihime marveled at the evident craftsmanship that had gone into building the ship. Ulquiorra was mounting a set of narrow stairs. Orihime grasped the railing firmly as she ascended. It wouldn't do to survive a kidnapping only to break her neck falling down a staircase. Her heart lifted as Ulquiorra opened a hatch and she saw her first open sunlight and took her first breath of fresh sea air in what seemed like years.

Emerging on deck, she stared around her in delight. Unlike what she had always heard of pirate ships being dirty, smelly, and decrepit, the lines of the ship were beautiful, and everything was clean and trim, from the highly polished wooden deck, to the ropes coiled in precise loops, hanging on shining iron hooks. The sun glinted off the open sea all around them, and as she looked around, she sucked in her breath.

They were surrounded by hundreds of ships, as far as the eye could see. Aizen's fleet was more powerful than she had imagined. She felt her heart clench in fear for her family and her home.

The nearer ships were all flying the Las Noches flag with the reversed crescent moon. As she followed Ulquiorra over the deck, stumbling slightly with the motion of the ship, she wondered again what she could do to persuade Aizen out of his plans before it was too late.

Ulquiorra took her up on the forecastle, where one of the men was serving as a lookout and operating some type of communication equipment. Inside the forecastle was the galley, and Orihime's stomach rumbled at the smells coming out of it.

Back out on deck again, she saw Aizen standing with three other men. Her heart began to beat faster at the sight of him and she found herself walking toward him, Ulquiorra trailing behind. As she came closer, she saw that one of the sailors was a woman, a tall blonde wearing a white velvet shirt over tight black pants and high boots. She could not help a gasp of surprise. She did not know that women ever became pirates. One of the other men was burly but elderly with white hair and moustache and a heavily lined face. He was scowling at something Aizen was saying. The other man was young and slender and looked sleepy. He had shoulder-length wavy brown hair, light blue eyes, and a trim goatee. They all had wicked-looking cutlasses hanging at their belts. As she approached, Aizen placed an object within his shirt; she saw a glitter of blue between his fingers before it was hidden and he had turned to her with his unremitting courtesy.

"Good day, Orihime. Please let me introduce you to three of my captains, Tia Harribel, Barragan Luisenbarn, and Coyote Starrk." They turned and scrutinized her, Barragan scowling and Harribel stern, while Starrk yawned.

She dipped them a slight curtsey. "Pleased to meet you, sirs and madam."

None of them responded. After a moment, Aizen turned back to the others. "Very well. Do you each understand your orders?" He met each of their eyes in turn. "Excellent. I'll rendezvous with you at the agreed-upon time and place then. Good day."

As Orihime watched, the three climbed into a small rowboat that was hanging on ropes at the side of the ship. It was lowered on a winch down into the water, and Orihime watched as a sailor plied his oars, taking the three passengers in the direction of one of the nearby ships riding at anchor.

Aizen was giving orders in a low voice to another man on deck, who nodded crisply after a moment and then went aft. Then he turned to Orihime and offered her his arm with a polite smile. "Shall we take the noon meal, my dear?"

She stared at him a moment, then nodded and took his arm. At the feel of the warmth of his body, a curl of desire began to writhe in her core, and she found herself blushing. To keep her mind away from her shameful thoughts, she turned to Aizen and demanded, "What are you planning now? Where are those three captains going?"

He only smiled as they continued walking to an upper deck where she saw a table had been set with an elegant white linen tablecloth and gold dishes.

She gaped, astonished at the rich place settings on the table. "You certainly like to pamper yourself. Where did you get all this luxurious…?" She swept her hand in an encompassing gesture, vaguely indicating not only the elegant tableware but the entire ship around them.

Aizen smirked. "I stole it all, of course." Ulquiorra pulled out a chair for him and he sat down gracefully. "This ship was built for a king; fortunately, it was built to be fast and efficient as well as opulent. It has served me well." He ran a hand fondly over one of the polished teak railings.

Orihime decided she had better not ask what had happened to the previous owner. "Where are we going now?" she persisted.

"We leave the fleet today and sail to Las Noches. Perhaps you will be pleased to sight land after all this time?"

"Las Noches?" Orihime's voice faltered briefly at the name of the feared, legendary island. Ulquiorra stepped to the table with a bottle of wine wrapped in a white towel. He held it out to Aizen, who nodded; then he took out a corkscrew and began working away on the bottle.

Aizen's gaze was steady on Orihime. "Yes. You will see your new home, my dear. I hope you will be pleased with it."

Orihime's heart chilled. "Will you be leaving me alone there?" Then she cursed herself for saying it.

The brown-haired man's smile had widened. "While I must admit I'm quite delighted that you relish my company to such an extent, surely you don't want to accompany me while I perform all the vile activities required of a pirate?" Ulquiorra had finished uncorking the wine; he poured them each a glass.

"No, I—" Orihime felt confused as she so often did around Aizen. Then she stopped and got ahold of herself. "Required? None of your reprehensible behavior is _required_. You could have obtained power legally, through the council."

"Oh?" he responded, leaning back in his chair and regarding her. "I suppose you believe that speaking with Yamamoto in a calm and reasonable voice will be sufficient to make him into a strong and good leader for Seireitei?"

She glared at him. "But that's not what you want anyway," she retorted. "You want to overthrow him and become king yourself."

Aizen's smile was serene. His long fingers wrapped around the stem of his wineglass and he swirled the ruby liquid within before raising it to her. "Do you truly believe Yamamoto is the best ruler for Seireitei?"

"At least he is the legitimate ruler! If we don't follow our own laws everything will dissolve into chaos!"

He raised his eyebrows over his glass of wine as he sipped. Then a pleased sigh escaped his lips. "A heavenly vintage. Thank you, Ulquiorra." He turned back to Orihime. "Are you quite certain of that? I myself find that laws can be so limiting."

"Laws are what make our civilization the way it is!" She was almost too incensed to continue, choking on her own words. "Without them we are no better than barbarians."

His glance was dark now. "Indeed. I happen to believe our society is worth preserving. And as it happens, there is only one man who can hold it together and preserve it from a descent into barbarism. This vacancy at the top of our society is unbearable. I alone can fill that vacancy."

"You're so arrogant! You don't know that you're the best person possible for the job. You can't know."

"Ah, but I do know." He slanted a look of hauteur at her as he set his glass down. "I have studied our situation and our history for longer than you have been alive, my dear. As you must surely know, we have many enemies who covet our rich lands, our mineral resources and favorable position on the coast." His voice took on the tone of a lecturer as he placed his long fingers on his cheek and rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair. "Those enemies need to be kept at bay. Yamamoto has allowed our fleets to fall into disrepair."

"Well, then, you should be back home rebuilding, rather than pillaging and destroying our coast! My own domain had three villages burned by your pirates!" She was furious now. "So many people have died for your selfish ambitions! How dare you say you would make a better king!"

His glance was unreadable now, his eyes dark and fixed on hers. "Do not speak to me of ethics and selfishness, Orihime. You too could have been strengthening your fleet. But your advisors have buried themselves in trivial concerns over your upcoming marriage to Ichigo Kurosaki, ignoring more important considerations."

At the mention of Kurosaki's name, hot guilt flashed through Orihime, and in response she lashed out. "A marriage of state _is_ an important concern! And what should it matter to you, considering you have destroyed my prospects! What is it, are you jealous?" Her eyes were narrowed and ferocious.

She expected him to get angry in response. Instead, at her words, he merely relaxed in his seat and rested his chin in his hand, his expression amused. "Ah yes. Now that I have marked you as mine, our societal mores consider you damaged goods and unsuitable for another's possession." Dark pleasure pooled in his eyes. "I happened to be stronger—and faster— than Lord Kurosaki, and so I won the prize." He raised his glass to her again in a toast, satisfaction gleaming in his gaze. "Victory is so gratifying."


	6. Chapter 6

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 6**

**A/N: **In which Orihime faces her toughest decision yet. And this is the longest chapter so far.

Thanks to **nypsy** for her excellent suggestion for how to fix a plot hole in this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach.

(Originally posted 10/15/11, edited 10/29/11.)

XxXxXxX

A few weeks had gone by, with contrary winds delaying their journey to their unknown destination. Orihime found herself settling into life on a pirate ship more readily than she would have expected. Despite Aizen's arrogance and criminal ways, he was unfailingly polite and considerate to her, and if he was demonstrating cruelty to his underlings on shipboard, it was hidden from her eyes. Indeed, his ship ran quite smoothly; all his sailors were obedient to his every command; they all averted their eyes from her, and Orihime suspected that harsh punishments had been decreed for anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way. Aizen did not look like a man who tolerated challenges to his absolute rule.

He was an odd mixture of iron discipline and classic self-indulgence. Although he lived in luxury, he worked extremely hard and slept little. When he was not directing the ship or engaged in strategy councils with his men, he retired to a small stern cabin that served as his office where he read or wrote out on parchment lengthy documents that Orihime was not allowed to read. The office was one of the few areas that were still off-limits to her; otherwise, she was allowed to explore the ship and sit out on deck, watching the water rush by, the silent Ulquiorra hovering in the background, usually occupied with some other shipboard task, one eye on her.

And every night and every morning, Aizen claimed her again in his bed. He never asked her permission, and with each day, she found herself more accustomed to his demands; she found herself beginning to almost look forward to spending time with him; indeed, she surprised herself one day by realizing she was craving the physical contact with him.

Although her cheeks burned to think of it, she had never experienced anything so intensely pleasurable in her life. But even though her body had deserted her and had gone over to the enemy, she kept a tight hold on her heart. The man might be inhumanly attractive and charismatic, but she refused to have any deeper feelings for a kidnapper, murderer, and pirate. She had, however, attempted multiple times to persuade him away from his plans of conquest, only to have him listen politely, smile serenely, and proceed to ignore everything she said. Clearly, he was set upon his terrible schemes, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

But Orihime found that over time, her essential optimism was reasserting itself. She was still alive, and while she lived, there was always hope. She found she had not given up on the idea of somehow being rescued, of finding a way out of the trap she found herself in. In the meantime, she would make the best of her life as it now was.

Then one day in her third week at sea there was a commotion on deck as she was sitting upon the forecastle sewing. After her request for a needle and thread to repair her gown had been granted, it had turned out that many of the pirates' clothes needed repair, and she had volunteered to stitch or darn the fabrics to pass the time, and, because she couldn't bear to see anyone, even a pirate, in need when she could help.

The man in the crow's nest was shouting, and Aizen himself came out of his meeting. Orihime watched as he swarmed up the rigging to the top of the mast, his long, black-clad arms and legs moving with grace over the ropes. At the top, he took the spyglass from the lookout and peered through it for several long moments. Then he nodded to the man and descended rapidly. Gin was waiting for him on deck. They exchanged a few terse words and then Gin went aft to the poop. Shortly afterwards, Orihime saw the man at the tiller swinging it to one side, and she felt the shift in their course.

Resolutely, she stood up and made her way over the swaying deck to Aizen (fortunately, she had gotten her sea legs shortly into the voyage), who was standing with Ulquiorra and Tousen, giving them orders in a quiet voice. As she neared them, the two men split off to their various tasks. Aizen shot a glance at her, his face amused.

Forestalling her question, he held up a hand. "Do not fret, Orihime, I will satisfy that burning curiosity of yours." He gestured to the east. "Our lookout has sighted a ship."

Orihime looked puzzled. "What's all the commotion about then? Don't you usually see those at sea?" Then she realized that they had been out on the open ocean, alone, for several days now.

"It is no ordinary ship, Orihime," Aizen said in a kindly tone. "It is flying the Kurosaki flag."

He waited for the effect of his words to sink in.

"But—" Orihime gasped, feeling as though the breath had been sucked out of her body. "Are they searching for you?"

"No." The brown-haired man smiled as he adjusted his cuffs. "They are searching for you."

"But why?" asked Orihime. "I am worthless to them now." Her forehead creased in a puzzled frown.

"Perhaps young Kurosaki is not aware of that fact," said Aizen.

Orihime's eyes turned to him. "Young Kurosaki?"

"Yes," replied Aizen. "It is flying the flag of the heir, not that of Lord Isshin. Your husband-to-be has come to rescue you."

Orihime's head spun at the thought of Ichigo Kurosaki sailing to engage with the pirates on the high sea. Aizen was watching her, his dark brown eyes measuring.

"Indeed, young Kurosaki is right on time."

Orihime's eyes swung to him. "What do you mean?"

He smirked. "His attack now is in accordance with my plans. Fear not, Orihime. I shall protect you from him and bring you safely to Las Noches."

Orihime glared at him. "You're always insisting that you're planning everything. Why do I not believe you this time?" Her voice was skeptical, but Aizen only smirked more widely.

"There is no need for you to believe me. Only that you obey me. According to my calculations, we still have another day before his ship comes in range of ours. That will give me plenty of time to prepare, and enough time to set a trap for him."

"Using me as bait?"

Aizen looked at her, his eyes distant. "No. You are too valuable to be bait. I have something else in mind for the young man."

"Wait a moment." Orihime's head was still spinning, but she could see that something was not right. "How does Lord Ichigo even know that you have captured me, much less where your flagship is, or where Las Noches is for that matter?"

The brown-haired pirate smirked at her. "Ah. It is a mystery, is it not? I'll leave you to wonder how it came about. Perhaps you will soften your disbelief in my ability to plan."

XxXxXxX

That night, she had dinner with him as she often did, in the privacy of his cabin. Aizen had been unusually quiet that evening, gazing off into space thoughtfully for much of the meal. As they sat, pressed thigh against thigh on the narrow bench, finishing the simple but remarkably tasty meal, Aizen finally set his utensils down and turned to her. "So, tomorrow we face a battle with your fiancé." His face showed only mild amusement at the mention of the upcoming fight.

Orihime felt her shoulders clenching. She knew that people would die tomorrow, no matter which side won. She doubted that Aizen would care for the lives of either his enemies or his allies. She turned her face away from her captor and said nothing.

She could feel Aizen shifting on the bench beside her and then she felt his fingers tangle in her hair as he gently turned her head to face his. The amused expression had not left his face. She cast her eyes down, refusing to look him in the eyes.

He stroked her hair for a moment, not saying anything. Finally he tilted his head to one side and inquired, "Are you still convinced I am an utter rogue with absolutely no redeeming qualities?"

Orihime glared at him as a faint smile quirked his lips. "You kidnapped me, and threatened my family members with death. I'm not going to ever be your friend."

"But indeed, I have harmed neither you nor any one of your friends or family," Aizen said softly, running a hand up brazenly up her inner thigh, "and it seems to me that you enjoy our time together. At least your body appears to indicate it." His gaze was dark over a slightly amused mouth.

Orihime blushed. She shook her head and said nothing, bending her head over her food.

He said, "Isn't there anything I can do to persuade you that I do care for you? Have I not treated you well here?" He ran his slender fingers lightly over the skin of her throat and she shivered at his touch.

"You said the Lord Aizen everyone in the Seireitei knew was an illusion." She looked him full in the eyes. "For all I know, your so-called 'care' for me could be another illusion." Her eyes were fierce and bright. "I'm certain you merely think of me as a toy, something to amuse you during your travels. Soon you will discard me as you have discarded so many others."

He drew back from her. "You wound me, Orihime." His tone was half-mocking and half-sincere. His dark eyes caught hers and she could not look away. "Do you truly think you have seen through my illusions? Let me assure you that you are different from any of my previous lovers, my dear."

She sniffed and tossed her head. "As if I would be so foolish as to believe a word of what you say. No doubt you beguiled all of those many lovers before me with honeyed words as well. You are a liar and a rogue."

"Ah, but Orihime..." His voice was coaxing. "Have I lied to you since you have been here?"

"How would I know?" she responded tartly. "I'm your prisoner. You control the flow of information."

He cupped her face in his hand and leaned into her, his lips brushing her ear. "Do you truly wish for me to release you?" His voice was deep and sensuous as it vibrated against her skull.

She pulled away. "It doesn't matter what I want. All that matters is what you want. I know that if you say you are releasing me, you will instead kill me to prevent me from informing Seireitei of your plans." She looked down and whispered, "Not that anyone there would believe me anyway. You know very well what fate would be mine were I to be returned to Seireitei now."

He took her in his arms and held her tightly. "Hush now." He stroked her hair back from her face, his eyes surprisingly gentle. "Do not worry. I promise that no harm will befall you while you are under my protection, neither from my pirates nor from Seireitei. And—" he hesitated for a moment, then spoke with an odd intensity, "I will also promise to extend that protection to you for as long as you should choose to accept it. Please believe me, Orihime, when I say that I have feelings for you."

She stared at him. His face looked oddly vulnerable, his eyes sincere.

"I—" she stammered, hesitating. Her wiser self was telling her that he must be lying again. But her essential compassion had arisen in her and taken her by the throat. She could not tell a man who was speaking to her so intimately and with such apparent sincerity that she knew he was a heartless bastard. On the other hand, after everything he had done, she could not bring herself to reach out to him, to show any weakness to him. Her voice trailed off into silence as she continued to stare at him without speaking.

He sighed, his face suddenly weary. "I know I have done many terrible things, including, especially, kidnapping you. I don't know if you can ever forgive me for what I've done, even if you come to understand why." Abruptly, he rose from the bench and went to the porthole, where he stood gazing out at the night sky for a long moment while she remained silent, her heart unexpectedly torn. "No doubt I deserve your hatred. I suppose it is the price I have to pay."

Her mind spun, trying to reconcile this new admission with the man she had thought she had finally begun to know. Chameleon-like, he seemed to change with each passing day. Although it was certainly possible he was putting on an act once more, all her instincts were telling her that he was truly sincere at last. To her surprise, she found herself questioning her own heart. Could he not be as evil as she had once assumed? Was it indeed possible that he could have feelings for her? She should speak to him, say something to indicate that she had understood what he said.

She drew in her breath to speak, but before she could open her mouth, he had turned to face her, his expression once more serene, his eyes shuttered. "Nevertheless, it does not matter what you or I feel." His face once again wore the familiar look of indifference. "We must all play our parts in the game." His fingers reached out, wove themselves into her hair; they were warm. His brown eyes held her immobile; in sharp contrast to his touch, they were cold and intense.

Orihime was struck dumb by the hard look in his eyes, all traces of gentleness gone. Her words died in her throat.

"You, in particular, must play your part in my game. Is that understood?" His eyes narrowed as he withdrew his hand from her hair, his face closed, mouth set as he stood over her. "Tomorrow, you are to remain in this cabin until I personally give you leave to exit. My men will install a deadbolt which you are to secure; you are not to open it unless you hear my voice or Ulquiorra's. Do you understand?"

When she continued to say nothing, he sighed with what sounded like resignation. Then he said softly, "I have released a carrier pigeon to certain of my agents on the mainland. I informed them they are to monitor the movements of certain individuals in the Inoue household."

Orihime's eyes flashed. "I thought you said you wouldn't harm my family!"

"Of course I will not harm them," he said, his tone mild, "so long as you comply with our bargain."

Her chest heaved as she glared at him ferociously. When she spoke, it was between gritted teeth. "I will do whatever you want, sir, in return for their safety."

"Good." Aizen's eyes were dark. "Then I expect utter obedience tomorrow. I will not have you running about on deck during a pitched battle, do you understand?"

"Yes," she ground out. "I will remain in the cabin for as long as you tell me to stay."

His eyes narrowed and something she did not understand stirred in their depths. "Very well. See that you continue to obey me."

Not waiting for her response, he swept out of the room.

XxXxXxX

The next morning dawned crisp and clear. Orihime woke up to the sun shining thinly into the cabin. The bed beside her was empty, and she could not help but feel a pang before she stifled it. Aizen had not returned to her after their argument the night before, and she tried to tell herself she was glad that he had left her alone. But all she felt was an unaccountable sadness, no matter what she told herself.

She sighed. Today she would be confined to the cabin. That was probably why she felt sad, she told herself.

She sat up and moved to get out of bed, and was surprised to find herself nauseous and dizzy. She had thought that she had gotten over her seasickness early in the voyage. She had gone to the small washbasin set on a low table to one side of the cabin and was splashing water over her face when one of her aunt Rangiku's lessons came back to her. She clutched the side of the metal washbasin in sudden shock.

"Nausea is one of the first signs of pregnancy." It could not be possible that she was pregnant… could it? She counted back on her fingertips to her last period. Usually regular as clockwork, she was a couple weeks late already; she hadn't noticed in all the agitation of being captured and then her confusing feelings and experiences with Aizen himself.

She wasn't married! Once again her cheeks burned with shame. To be pregnant outside of wedlock… perhaps the deepest disgrace that could befall a young woman of her class... no, it could not have happened to her.

She stared at herself in the tiny mirror hung on the wood paneling above the washbasin. She didn't look any different. Her hand dropped to her still-flat belly. Would it soon begin to show signs of her ignominious behavior?

No. She shook her head. It could not be possible.

She heard shouting up on deck, and wondered when Kurosaki would overtake them. Her mind flooded with bitterness. If she were truly pregnant, it would end her last chance at returning to her previous life. There had been some small chance before that Kurosaki would take her back. She was a prisoner, after all, and it was possible he could have forgiven her disgrace; they could have created some polite lie, pretended nothing had really happened during her time as Aizen's captive.

But if she were indeed carrying his child, her position was irrevocable. She would be tied to Aizen now, her fate truly in his hands. Kurosaki would never take her now. Indeed, she would be cast out of the Inoue domain unless she were lawfully married before she gave birth. There was no way a noble would marry a woman carrying another's child.

She felt the last spark of hope die within her.

The shouting continued, and she went back to the porthole in the cabin, peering out of it to see if she could see anything. But no ships were visible from this vantage point.

She fancied that she heard the clash of swords. Was a battle being fought on deck even now?

She returned to the bed and sank down on it in despair.

XxXxXxX

"Lady Inoue," came a familiar monotone voice from outside her door. Ulquiorra. "Lord Aizen requests your presence on deck."

Taking a deep breath and smoothing back her hair, Orihime slid open the deadbolt and opened the door. The slender man with shaggy black hair gazed at her without expression. "Come," he ordered tonelessly, and turned to go.

Emerging behind him on deck, Orihime blinked at the bright sunlight. All around her, on deck, stood Aizen's men— and half a dozen men she did not recognize. One of them was standing across from Aizen, a handsome young man with messy, bright orange hair and a ferocious scowl on his face. He was wearing a black frock coat over black slacks. A huge sword hung from his belt.

Hesitantly, Orihime's eyes crept to his; she felt a sudden shock as intense, warm brown eyes met hers. Although she had never met the man, she knew who he was.

Aizen stepped forward with a casual gesture at the other man. His eyes were amused and his body completely relaxed, in sharp contrast to the tension in the others around him. Once again, Orihime's eyes were drawn unwillingly to his handsome face and the play of muscles under the skin of his chest. "My dear Orihime, let me introduce you to Lord Ichigo Kurosaki. Lord Ichigo, this is the Lady Inoue. We are under flag of truce for an hour's parlay, my lady. This man," he gestured at Kurosaki, "wished to see that you were alive and unharmed."

Kurosaki frowned. His face was sulky beneath the thick orange hair. Orihime noticed how full his lips were, how vibrant his brown eyes were beneath lowered orange brows. This was the man she might have spent the rest of her life with, under other circumstances. She found herself wondering what he was like, what he might be thinking of her. Did he think of her as 'damaged goods'? He was her own age, and she found herself intensely curious about him, and regretful that she had never gotten to know him. He did not notice her scrutiny, as he was scowling fiercely at Aizen. "So all the rumors are true, you traitor. You betrayed the Seireitei and kidnapped my promised bride, a noble and heir to her domain."

The brown-haired man's smile was serene. "I don't deny it, sir."

The younger man's face creased with frustration. "What I don't understand is why, Aizen. Why have you chosen to be a pirate and a villain?"

Aizen's smile was dark. "Suffice it to say that I have my reasons, which will undoubtedly be revealed at a later date."

Kurosaki shook his head. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Anyway, what I'm authorized to say is that King Yamamoto will lift the sentence of death on your head, Aizen, if you agree to return the Lady Inoue to my custody."

Aizen's smirk widened. "Indeed. And are those the only terms?"

There was a pause. Then the orange-haired man said, "There is something else. I received the message by carrier pigeon only yesterday. It seems that Seireitei is being attacked. Several hundred ships, apparently from the western continent across the sea, have entered Seireitei harbor and are engaged in a pitched battle with Seireitei's forces." He met Aizen's eyes. "Did you know this?" he demanded.

Aizen smiled faintly but said nothing.

"The king is appealing to your patriotic duty as Lord of the Fifth Domain. If you agree to return and throw your support to Seireitei in this battle, you will be pardoned for all your crimes. Although you can no longer remain lord of the domain, you will be allowed to return as a private citizen, and will remain free."

Aizen raised his eyebrows. "King Yamamoto is _generous_," he replied mockingly. "I am to throw all my substantial forces over to his command, to meekly submit to his rule and be stripped of command of my domain." His eyes were cold. "I won't even dignify that farce of a deal with a response."

Kurosaki scowled. "I told them you wouldn't accept that." His eyes flashed. "But the previous offer stands. A promise that you will not be executed if you return the Lady Inoue to us." His eyes met Orihime's once more. "She is of noble birth and deserves her freedom. I appeal to you as a gentleman to release her."

This time Aizen chuckled. "A gentleman? You must surely have realized that I am no longer a gentleman." He threw his head back and his eyes flashed. "I am a pirate king and as such make my own rules. I no longer accept the strictures of Seireitei." He glanced at Orihime. "The lady is mine now and will remain so."

Rage burned in Kurosaki's irises. "You would keep a lady captive against her will?"

"Ah, but is it truly against her will?" Aizen raised his eyebrows, an amused expression on his face. "How do you know she does not stay here of her own free will? How do you even know that she did not come with me willingly?"

A flash of anguish appeared on Kurosaki's face only to vanish in a second. His eyes flicked to Orihime once again. "King Yamamoto insinuated that, but I don't believe it. The Inoues have a strong sense of honor." He took a step forward, and his hand reached out toward Orihime almost as though it were beyond his conscious control. "I know she would never betray Seireitei. Release her to me. It is my duty to protect my intended bride." His eyes, now focused solely on Orihime, were determined.

Orihime felt a thrill course through her body. He was still willing to take her. Despite everything, when surely most nobles would have disdained her after her capture, he was reaching out to her. She felt an odd flutter in her chest. She looked up at him and met his eyes in sudden hope.

Aizen moved to stand between them. He said coldly, "No. She stays with me. I will allow you to leave unharmed, if you sail away and do not disturb us further. Convey my opinion of his terms to the _former _King of Seireitei." His lips curled in an icy smile as he raised a hand to signal to his men.

"No," Kurosaki said urgently. "Wait. May I speak with the Lady Inoue alone?"

Aizen stopped and raised his brows. "So persistent. I have already told you my terms."

"But surely you will allow me at least one last meeting with my intended bride," insisted Kurosaki.

Aizen looked at Orihime, his glance mild. "Very well. I will allow you ten minutes together." He gestured to his men to withdraw from the deck, leaving space for Orihime and Ichigo to speak together. As he was leaving, he turned back for a moment, amusement flashing in his eyes. "Oh, but one more thing you should know, Lord Ichigo, before you make any rash decisions. The Lady Inoue carries my child."

Orihime gasped. How did he know? Was it even true? She didn't even know herself. She stared at Kurosaki, wondering what he would think of this development.

The orange-haired man didn't even appear to have heard Aizen's words. He was focused exclusively on Orihime. "Lady Inoue," he began, "I'm sorry our first meeting has to be under such terrible circumstances. But I am very pleased to have finally met you. And, um, I want to let you know that I don't give any credence to Aizen's lies. I would, uh, be really happy to take you as my bride." She saw to her amazement that he was blushing under his tan. It only made him look younger and cuter.

Orihime gave him a tentative smile. After all this, he was willing to accept her as wife. Her heart swelled. He was clearly a good man, perhaps one whom she could have come to love under other circumstances. But what would Lord Isshin say when she gave birth to a criminal's child? Surely the Kurosaki family would not accept the dishonor. "Lord Ichigo," she murmured, curtseying, "I am very pleased to meet you under any circumstances, and I am beyond grateful that you have come to rescue me." She swallowed as she met his gentle brown eyes. "However, Lord Aizen has spoken the truth for once about his child, and I would not bring dishonor on the Kurosaki family."

He looked dismayed. Then he shook his head and stepped closer, reaching out to take her hand in his. His hand was calloused, strong, and warm. "Lady Inoue, none of that matters to me. I don't stand on ceremony anyway. Besides, it's obvious he kidnapped you against your will. That will be clear to everybody. I'll defend your honor to everyone no matter what." He scowled. "And I'll make sure it's clear to my idiot dad."

Orihime couldn't help herself. She laughed. She already liked this man, brash, outspoken and good-hearted. As she stood, her hand in his, her head spun. What would happen if she said yes to him, if she agreed that she wanted to go with him? Would Aizen let her go? Would there be more bloodshed? She hesitated, unsure of what to say next. The silence stretched out between them for a long, tense moment.

XxXxXxX

**A/N:** Although I know exactly where this story will end, I'm a little bit stuck as to where to go from here. So I thought I'd stop here and ask you, my readers, for help, so there's not too lengthy a delay before I post the next chapter.

**What should Orihime do?**

a. Refuse Ichigo's offer. Aizen will attack him if she tries to go with him; she doesn't want to be the cause of more bloodshed. Besides, she's secretly in love with Aizen even if she doesn't want to admit it.

b. Accept Ichigo's offer. He's offering her a chance to return to her former position in the Seireitei, he can probably defeat Aizen, he seems like a sweet guy, and besides, he's cute.

c. Accept Ichigo's offer. Ichigo has a lot of friends, and it's likely that Kisuke Urahara is lurking around nearby, ready to come to his aid.

d. Negotiate with Aizen. There has to be some way out of this sticky situation.

e. Other [YOUR IDEA HERE]

Any comments are welcome. Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 7**

**A/N:** Wow, thank you for all your marvelously creative ideas for how to continue this story! I read each of them with great delight and was wonderfully inspired by your comments. Although I'm not going to follow any single one of them exactly, they sparked my imagination and jump-started me on writing this chapter. So thanks!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. All characters are 18 or older in this story.

(Originally posted 10/25/11.)

XxXxXxX

Orihime stared at the handsome, orange-haired man in front of her, her mind whirling with all the implications hanging upon her answer. He was still scowling, but his gaze on her was both hopeful and determined. What could she do? If she agreed to go with him, Aizen would attack him and would undoubtedly take his revenge on her family as well. On the other hand, if she let Lord Ichigo know about the threat to her family, she had a feeling he would not meekly sneak away, but would feel obligated to continue to try to rescue her, no doubt resulting in further bloodshed. Aizen's ship appeared to be alone on the high seas, but somehow she had a feeling that he had reinforcements lurking just over the horizon. He did not strike her as a foolhardy man in battle.

And what was this news about hundreds of ships attacking Seireitei? Was that Aizen's doing? She remembered the size and power of Aizen's fleet, when she had seen his ships stretching out beyond the horizon that one morning. Could this be another one of his tricks, the "fleet from the western continent" yet another one of his illusions? And why had he deliberately allowed her to see his fleet, and witness the sendoff of his captains on their mission?

She had studied the ancient history of Seireitei, and knew that hundreds of years ago, a race of bloodthirsty barbarians from the west had attacked the coast. At that time, they had possessed only primitive weapons and had been easily defeated. It was generally assumed they were no threat today, especially since they had not been heard of in over a century. Was this perhaps another myth Aizen was twisting to his advantage?

Nevertheless, the attack on Seireitei was real, whether it was perpetrated by Aizen or by the western continent, and Aizen was the only one who had the power to stop it. She knew from the council meeting that Seireitei's fleet was weak and numbered only in the dozens, not hundreds, of ships.

She frowned at the memory of Lord Ichigo's statement of the offer from King Yamamoto. Reading between the lines, it seemed that the king wanted to make a deal with Aizen. There would have been no offer at all, even an insulting one, were not the door open for some type of negotiated settlement. Yamamoto might be weak, but he was not stupid.

If all that mattered were her own life, it was clear that the honorable choice as well as her own personal choice would be to return with the man she had been handfasted to for over a decade. However, as she had begun to realize, there was so much more at stake than her own life. It was not just the lives of her family and her unborn child. Aizen was clearly playing some type of dangerous game with Seireitei, and the fate of her entire country hung in the balance. She was not altogether clear on Aizen's motives, but his plans obviously revolved around taking control of Seireitei, and somehow she figured into those plans, although she was far from certain how. But she had deduced that she held some type of strategic importance for him. If so, perhaps she could use that in her country's service.

It had only taken a few seconds for all these thoughts to whirl through her mind. She gently freed her hand from Ichigo's grasp. "My lord, your generosity floors me," she murmured. "I am most humbly grateful for your willingness to forgive my transgressions and take me as your bride. It is the choice that I would accept with great joy were our country not in crisis." She took a deep breath. "But given the threat to Seireitei, my own concerns must take a back seat." Now, here came the tricky part. She would have to allow both Yamamoto and Aizen to save face. "I am grateful to his majesty for his understanding of my situation. If I may suggest a compromise, I would like to propose the following. I do not wish for my life to become a bargaining chip when so many other lives are at stake. I will stay willingly with Lord Aizen and will raise his child, should he agree to throw his support to King Yamamoto in the upcoming battle against the western continent. In return, Lord Aizen is to be pardoned of his crimes and given a legitimate position as both the lord of the Inoue Domain and his own domain."

Ichigo's face darkened. "This proposal of yours is of benefit to both Yamamoto and Aizen, but at your own personal sacrifice," he growled.

Orihime's eyes dropped. Here was the delicate point. She must make sure he understood. "Lord Ichigo, I am most touched for your concern for my welfare," she began. "But surely you understand that I am an Inoue, and have been raised since birth to place the good of my people ahead of my own. Additionally, since I am carrying Lord Aizen's child, I am now duty bound to stay with him and raise his offspring. I did not choose this path, nor would I have willingly gone with him, but now that a new life exists within me, I am bound to care for that life, and thus, I am bound to Lord Aizen as well."

Reluctantly, Ichigo stepped back. Raising her eyes to his, she could see that he did understand. He had, after all, been raised with the same code.

"I understand, madam." His voice had become more formal as he accepted the new parameters of their relationship. "Do I also understand that you are speaking for Lord Aizen in this?"

Orihime glanced over to the end of the deck, where Aizen stood in his black regalia and boots, his velvet shirt partially unlaced at the throat, his long sword hanging at his belt, as he relaxed against the rail beside Ulquiorra and his other men. He looked every inch the pirate, but his face was serene as always. "I suggest we bring him into the discussion now." She lifted her chin and hoped that she had judged Aizen correctly as well. "I have no standing to speak for him at this moment, but perhaps he will listen to the words of the mother of his child."

Ichigo signaled Aizen, and the man detached himself from his group to approach them. His expression was mildly inquisitive as he neared, looking first at Ichigo and then shooting a brief glance at Orihime.

"Lord Aizen," Ichigo began, as Orihime noted both his formal tone and the return of Aizen's honorific to his words. "The Lady Inoue has a proposal for both of us."

Aizen raised his eyebrows and turned his gaze to Orihime, nothing other than polite attention visible in his eyes.

Orihime took a deep breath and repeated her suggestion, half expecting the brown-haired pirate to refuse with one of his scornful laughs. But instead Aizen looked thoughtful at her words.

His gaze was dark and measuring as it rested on her. "Do you then fully agree, of your own free will, to be my ally, Orihime?"

Why was he placing so much emphasis on whether it was her will or not? Her opinions had never mattered to him before. Orihime frowned inwardly, but outwardly her face was calm. "I agree, Lord Aizen."

Aizen's face expressed satisfaction, shading over into amusement, as he nodded. "As the Lady Inoue has consented to a formal alliance, I acknowledge her words as having the weight of one of my representatives. I will accept the combined rulership of the Inoue and my own domains as my reward for throwing my forces to King Yamamoto's defense against the western continent." His eyes shifted to Ichigo. "I must also insist upon a formal pardon and apology from King Yamamoto."

Ichigo scowled. "I'm not sure if the King will accept those terms. But I will convey your words to him."

XxXxXxX

Orihime sighed as she sank onto the bed in Aizen's cabin. She had spent the past hour on the forecastle, first watching the Kurosaki vessel sail away, and then wondering whether Aizen would keep his word and refrain from attacking it. She had no idea if he would consider himself bound by her words or not. As a Lord of the Seireitei, his word should have been his bond. But as a pirate king, he could lie through his teeth whenever it suited him. She did not know which of his identities would guide his behavior in this matter, or how it would play out vis-a-vis his long-term plans.

She heard the creaking of the ship shift in timbre, and sensed the change in course as the shaft of sunlight from the porthole began to move across the trim cabin. So they were changing course as agreed, away from Las Noches and towards the battle in the waters off the capital city of Seireitei. One of Aizen's representatives, once more dressed as the retainer of a noble lord rather than in pirate costume, had gone with Lord Ichigo on his ship to meet with King Yamamoto. The silver-haired man with slitted eyes had bowed farewell to Orihime with an air of mockery, and she had suppressed a shudder. She had to admit she was glad Aizen had chosen him to leave the ship and not Ulquiorra, for she did not think she could have stood having Ichimaru guard her for the remaining time at sea.

The door opened and Aizen entered. He smiled at her, and then began to unbuckle his sword belt. She found her eyes following his fingers as they nimbly worked the fastenings. She bit her lip. Why was she so fascinated by every motion he made, no matter how casual?

He turned and sat with careless grace on the bed quite close to her. "My dear Orihime, I must say I am quite pleased by this turn of events. An alliance with you gladdens my heart." She could feel the warmth of his body pressed up against hers, her eyes were drawn to the muscles of his thighs flexing beneath his tight-fitting black pants, and she found that her heart was thudding at his proximity. She looked up at the man she had just sworn herself to. He was smiling down at her, his dark eyes unfathomable.

She had to ask the question that was uppermost in her mind. "Is it your fleet that is attacking the Seireitei now, under the guise of being from the western continent?"

His smile widened. "What, my newly promised associate doubts my word?" He placed his hand on his half-bare chest mockingly. Gold chains winked at her from between long fingers.

She glared at him. "If I'm going to be your ally and representative, you have to tell me the truth so I can negotiate for your best interest."

He lifted his brows and nodded with approval. "Touché," he murmured. He tilted his head to one side, regarding her. "Very well. The truth then." He paused. "No, that fleet is not mine. It is truly from the western continent." His eyes searched her face. "It is true that I was aware of the planned offensive and deliberately stood aside, in order to obtain maximum leverage with Yamamoto." His lip curled ever so slightly as she frowned at him. "Believe me, had I not done that, the number of deaths would have been far greater. However, as it is, I ordered my captains into position so that they could rapidly engage the enemy as soon as Yamamoto agreed to my terms."

"Wait." Orihime's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "You talked to your captains days ago, before you could even know that Lord Ichigo would arrive here, and certainly before you knew that I would make my proposal."

The brown-haired pirate smirked. "Indeed. And you doubted my ability to plan?" He leaned back and scrutinized her, his eyes lidded. "All of the events and conflicts of these past weeks have been in the palm of my hand." Orihime scowled at this arrogant assertion, but he continued serenely. "I am telling you the truth now; I trust you will not scorn my words."

"So," she asked in disbelief, somewhat scornfully, "will Yamamoto agree to your terms?"

He smiled. "Ah. That is the crux of the matter, is it not?" He stroked her cheek gently. "If he does not, your fate with Seireitei hangs in the balance once again." His eyes were hooded. "But fear not, my dear. As my ally and mother of my child, you have a position at my side no matter what."

Orihime frowned. "No, I'm not asking about myself. What I'm concerned about are the lives of our people. If Yamamoto disagrees, will you continue to stand aside and let these barbarians attack Seireitei unhindered?"

He regarded her levelly. "Do you truly think me so callous as to do so?" There was a pause while she hesitated, her eyes searching his face. Then his eyes darkened and he smiled. "If so, then I have succeeded. It is critical that Yamamoto believe it."

Her mouth dropped open. "Are you bluffing him then?"

His smirk was bland. "Do I bluff? Haven't you seen my forces attack defenseless villages on your own coastline?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "All right. What is truly going on?"

He laughed. "Believe me, you will be the first to know as soon as I receive Gin's message regarding Yamamoto's decision. In the meantime, I am positioning my ships for maximum impact." He glanced out the porthole. "Our escort is joining us now."

She looked out the window and saw half a dozen ships on the horizon matching their course. Her suspicions had been correct. It was a good thing she had not chosen to go with Lord Ichigo and do battle with Aizen, assuming he had only a single ship. "They've been there all the time." It was not a question, and he nodded.

"Of course." He stood up, lifted his sword belt and adjusted it onto his waist, checking the fit with a practiced movement.

"Where are we going now?"

He looked down at her, still with a faintly amused expression on his face. "I do regret that you will not be able to see Las Noches on this voyage. We sail to the capital city of Seireitei, where even now the harbor is besieged by the enemy. With fair winds, we should arrive within a handful of days." He moved to the cabin door, where he paused with his hand on the knob. "I additionally regret that you will have to see battle, my lady. Had things gone otherwise, you could have been safe in Las Noches. As it is, you are at risk."

She lifted her chin. "I am an Inoue, and am not afraid."

He smiled at her, what might have been a faint gleam of pride deep in his eyes. "I always knew you were a brave girl. Now I must ask you to be cautious, not only for yourself, but for the life you carry."

Orihime's eyes dropped involuntarily to her still-flat belly. "Yes, about that— how did you know I was pregnant?" she demanded.

His only answer was an enigmatic smile as he stepped out into the corridor.

Orihime stared in frustration at the door as it closed behind him. He had to be the most infuriating man she had ever known. Then she caught herself. When had she started thinking of him as annoying and no longer as despicable? She put a hand on her stomach and thought of the new life within with a sudden lift of her spirits.

Suddenly, she found herself grinning. Why was she inexplicably happy on the eve of a war, where so many people might get killed? She lay back down on the bed and hugged the pillow to her face, taking a deep breath of the characteristic mixture of woodsy and briny scent that still lingered on it.

XxXxXxX

Orihime stood on the forecastle, watching the prow cleave smoothly through the foamy bluish-green water, throwing up spray on both sides. The air was tart and brackish after the recent storm, and she drew breath after breath of bracing air into her lungs. It had been several days since their confrontation with Ichigo. They had weathered the storm with no damage and continued to press on. Each morning she had awakened to mild nausea, but somehow it did not dampen her spirits. She realized she was treasuring these few days of peace, the calm before the storm of battle on the horizon. And waking up every morning in the arms of a certain man was proving to be surprisingly pleasant… well, more than pleasant. She hugged her arms around herself and her lips curved in delicious memory of this morning's dalliance in bed.

As she stood looking off into the far distance in the direction they were heading, she saw a tiny speck above the western horizon. As she watched, it slowly grew bigger and resolved itself into a bird. Simultaneously she heard a cry from the lookout, and saw Tousen making his way toward the man's perch.

Not long afterward, Aizen emerged from his office to stand on deck, waiting, as the bird winged its way unerringly towards their ship. The bird circled the ship once, and then entered a smooth glide to land on his handler's arm. The man extracted the tiny scroll of paper tied to its leg and handed it with a bow to Aizen. The brown-haired man unrolled the paper deftly and stood reading for a moment.

He handed it to Tousen, raising his eyebrows and making some remark that Orihime could not hear. The dark-skinned man read the paper silently, then lifted his eyes to Aizen and asked a question.

Orihime had climbed down off the forecastle and was approaching the two men. As she neared, she heard Tousen's question. "Sir, what do you plan to do now?"

Aizen responded, calm as ever, "We continue on course. There will be no change in plans." He turned back towards his office, where Orihime intercepted him.

"What did the message say?" she asked.

He regarded her. "Gin has sent his report." He raised his eyebrows very slightly but showed no other expression. "King Yamamoto has passed away."

She sucked in her breath. "Oh no!" The crusty old monarch had been a fixture of Seireitei life for so long that she could almost not imagine the country without him. Although she had felt no overt fondness for the man, he had ruled Seireitei for many times her own lifetime. "But—" She glanced up at Aizen, who was watching her intently.

"Yes," he said. "He had passed on before Lord Ichigo could give him my message." He rolled the piece of paper between his fingers idly.

"What does that mean, then?" asked Orihime.

"It means," Aizen said, "that anything can happen. Yamamoto's official heir was Lord Ukitake, who is dying of a fatal illness. Ukitake also has no heir." He gazed directly at her and then smiled. She saw something disturbing gleam in his deep brown eyes. "It means the throne is vacant. Perfect."

"You didn't… arrange for his death, did you?" Orihime accused.

A shadow passed over his face and his eyes darkened. "I have no need to stoop to regicide." Then a faint smirk curled his lips. "Although it does suit my plans perfectly."

"So what are you going to do now?"

With a flick of his hand, the tiny coil of paper was spinning out over the railing and into the sea. "Do? I will act in accordance with my plans." His smile was dark. "We go now to war, my lady." He extended a hand to her. "I beg you to excuse me, my dear. There is much work to do before we engage the enemy tomorrow."


	8. Chapter 8

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 8**

**A/N:** Thanks to **nypsy**, who helped me fix a plot hole regarding Orihime's pregnancy in chapter 6. I've edited and reposted chapter 6.

**Warning:** minor-character death.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. All characters are 18 or older in this story.

(Originally posted 11/1/11.)

XxXxXxX

The morning dawned overcast and chilly, with a brisk and fitful wind tumbling over the ship's deck. Orihime emerged on deck and shivered even though she was wrapped in several woolen shawls. Aizen was already standing at the lookout's station, a spyglass to his eye, slowly scanning the horizon to the west. If she strained her eyes, she could see faint specks against the dark sea. Were they Aizen's ships, those of the Seireitei, or those of the invaders? And would the Seireitei consider them an enemy or ally? Orihime shivered again as a fierce gust of wind tore at her shawl, and she hugged her arms tightly around herself.

Aizen was training the spyglass on one particular location; following it with her eyes, she saw that a single ship had detached itself from the fleet ahead and was sailing to meet them. At the same time, she saw the lookout begin to climb the ropes to the crow's nest, carrying a lantern flaring with unusual brilliance, attached to an oddly shaped mirror. As she watched, the man aimed the lantern toward the west, and began signaling with it, closing and opening the shutter on the lantern in an arrhythmic pattern. She had never seen such a method of communication, and watched in fascination, trying to figure out the pattern.

She was counting the beats on her fingers when Aizen came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "Have you figured it out yet?" he teased.

She smiled up at him, relaxing into his warm arms without thinking. "No, although I have seen this one repeated pattern of three short flashes in a row several times. And there are pauses between combinations of short and long flashes, that makes me think they might form a kind of alphabet."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "I'm impressed that you could deduce that much merely from watching." He smiled. "Unless, of course, my code is quite simple to figure out, after all, and the cleverness I prided myself on was a mere delusion."

"What is it? A new means of communicating between ships?"

"Yes. Actually, it can be used over any distance," he explained, sounding almost like her old tutor. "Letters and common words are encoded as sequences of short and long flashes. I have a communications officer on each ship who has memorized the code. The lanterns and mirrors provide an exceptionally bright, focused light that can be seen over a precisely measured distance. I have conducted experiments to determine the maximum range. Thus I can deploy my ships in an array separated by this optimum distance, so that messages can be relayed from one ship to the next and thus can reach the entire fleet. In that way I am in full contact with my fleet."

It was Orihime's turn to be impressed. "With such a communication system, you have an advantage over any other fleet on the sea, where each individual ship must operate without direct orders."

Aizen smirked at her. "It is part of what has ensured my superiority over all other ships I have encountered. Every one of my battles has been fully coordinated."

She frowned, thinking of the lives of her countrymen that had been lost to Aizen's pirates. No wonder so many ships had disappeared, if he had such a substantial military advantage.

She eyed him with displeasure. "Are there any other secret weapons you have developed?"

Amusement flared in his eyes. "Now, Orihime, you would not have me give away my every military advantage, would you?"

"I thought I was your ally," she retorted.

"And indeed you are; perhaps this will convince you I am on your side now," he said, spinning her around in his arms and drawing her face to his for a long and passionate kiss. When he finally released her, she staggered, her knees weak, overcome by her attraction to him. His arm steadied her as he gazed at her with heat in his mahogany eyes. Then he sighed, and released her with a look of deep regret.

"I so wish that we had time to spend together in relaxation this morning, my dear. But no doubt you will be more interested in the news I will tell you: I have received a message relayed from Gin, who has reached the mainland."

She drew in her breath, her eyes fixed on his.

"He says that the capital is in disarray with the king's death. Ukitake has been named king, but he is gravely ill and has not appeared to the public. Soi Fon has seized the reins of government, but not all of the domains are accepting her rule." Orihime's eyes were wide as she tried to take in all this new information. "Nevertheless, there is so much chaos in Seireitei that it seems to be folly to oppose her for the nonce. Half of the waterfront is on fire from some new flame throwing weapons the western continent has been launching. I have told Gin to make Soi Fon the same offer of alliance against the invaders that I offered Yamamoto." He raised his eyebrows at her, a look of tolerant bemusement on his face.

"Do you think she'll accept your offer?" Orihime asked, clutching her shawl around her once again.

Aizen's glance remained on her. "It would be in her best interests to do so. She is in a position of weakness. If she refuses, all I would need to do is hold off on attacking the invaders until they have completely destroyed Seireitei's fleet, then move to attack them after anyone who might contest my rule of Seireitei has been killed. Then I proceed to annihilate the invaders, and finally, walk into the burning ruins of Seireitei and take the throne for myself."

"But you wouldn't do that, would you?" asked Orihime, outraged.

"Very well, my dear ally: what would you have me do?" His voice was reasonable. "If Soi Fon refuses my alliance and attacks me, what should I do?" He paused and waited for her answer, one eyebrow lifted quizzically.

"Well," said Orihime, taken aback at his request for counsel. She had not expected that. "Perhaps she will accept your alliance. Then you should honor your word."

"Of course," he said, nodding. "Done. And what if she does not?"

"Uh," she said, temporizing as she tried to think rapidly, "You could still fight the invaders and not attack the Seireitei fleet."

"And if she sends ships against us?" He cocked his head to one side and raised his brows.

"Uh," said Orihime again. She looked up at him, then smiled suddenly. "Surrender?" she asked, matching his teasing look with one of her own.

He chuckled, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I will remember that you are a superb ally in peacetime, but I will take your military advice with a grain of salt."

"But—" she began, trying to think of a way to keep him from attacking her homeland.

"Sir!" Tousen had approached from behind her. "We have received a message that the vanguard of our ships has encountered the invaders at the far northwest edge of quadrant D."

Aizen's expression became thoughtful. "Quadrant D, eh? Do you have word on the invaders' numbers, or what their primary actions have been?"

"Their fleet is estimated at two hundred sailing ships, sir. They have not yet taken any action against our vessels. Which orders do you want relayed to the captains?"

Aizen reflected for a moment. "Tell Harribel to execute order Bravo 5, Starrk order Bravo 2, and Barragan Bravo 4."

Tousen bowed so that the tiny braids all around his head fell in front of his face. "At once, sir!" He spun on his heel and headed to the quarterdeck.

Orihime opened her mouth to ask what all those order codes meant, but then the words died on her lips at Aizen's expression.

He had turned back to her, his face grim. "And now, my dear, it begins. I must ask you to go below for your safety." He placed a hand on the small of her back. "I do promise that I will do my best not to attack the Seireitei fleet, and will assume an alliance with Soi Fon until I hear otherwise. Will that suffice to please you?" he inquired.

She stared up at him for a moment, then nodded. Then she opened the hatch and descended to the relative quiet of the cabin.

XxXxXxX

It was difficult to remain belowdecks, knowing that the battle was about to be joined above her. Orihime sat on the bed, nervously twisting the fringe of the shawl around her fingers. They had been sailing for hours, and she knew that it was almost time for them to encounter the enemy.

Then she heard shouting from above. Looking out the porthole, she saw only the few ships of their escort. But she noticed they were heaving to, crewmembers scurrying about on decks to adjust the sails. So something must be happening.

Again there came ferocious shouting and clanging, and this time it did not stop. She could only imagine what was going on topside.

Finally she could bear it no longer. She threw her darkest shawls around her, hiding her bright hair. Then she cracked open the door, slipped out, and crept cautiously up the stairs to the hatch.

XxXxXxX

She emerged warily into a raging melee. Another ship had pulled alongside them, its starboard rail nearly touching their port rail. Men were fighting all over the main deck and up on the quarterdeck as well. Swords were flashing and she heard screams and groans as people fell to the deck, mortally wounded. She shrank back, scurrying to hide behind a bulkhead, a dark, still figure, only her horrified eyes visible.

Her eyes sought the press of men for one in particular. The tall, brown-haired pirate was crossing swords with a dark-haired man with an ugly, scarred face. Orihime held back a gasp as Aizen got under his opponent's guard and ran his enemy through with a single stroke. As the body slumped, Aizen pulled his sword free and whirled to face another attacker, but then her view of him was blocked as a slender man with straight, shoulder-length blond hair moved in front of her. His teeth were bared in a grimace as a taller, dark-skinned man she barely recognized as Tousen made a powerful thrust at him with his blade, only to be blocked by a huge man with one of the ugliest faces she had ever seen. He looked more like a wolf than a man.

The wolf-man growled. "Tousen, after all the years we served together, I never thought that the time would come when I would have to protect someone from your sword."

The dark-skinned man threw back his head and said, "Komamura, I suppose I always knew that one day we would cross blades. When you joined Soi Fon as her general, I knew it would be inevitable." He slashed at Komamura. "Just as it is inevitable that one of us will die."

The large man blocked. Now looking sorrowful, he said, "Whatever happened to the friendship we shared? How could you have stooped so low, Tousen, to follow that traitor and become a pirate?"

"You do not understand," said Tousen. "I had to follow the path of least bloodshed, no matter the cost to my own honor." He raised his sword and attacked.

Komamura blocked it with a sweep of his powerful arm. "You had no need to betray Seireitei. You have been corrupted by the lure of power. What has he promised you?"

"He promised me nothing but justice," retorted Tousen, dropping his sword suddenly to come in under the larger man's guard. His blade plunged deep into the other man's side and the man gasped, clutching his torso. Tousen moved forward to strike a killing blow, but suddenly he stopped. A blade was protruding out of his belly. He grunted and doubled over, and Orihime could see that standing behind him was a tall, lean man with short black hair and scars and tattoos on his face. His killer withdrew his blade, scowling, and allowed Tousen's body to fall to the deck.

Tousen gasped as he saw who had struck him from behind. "Hisagi…!" he cried. He coughed and blood sprayed from his lips.

Hisagi stood over him, his face working with grief and fury. "Tousen, my former captain would easily have evaded such an attack. What has happened to you? Why did you leave us for this?" He gestured around him angrily. "Why become a lowlife and criminal, when you once believed in honor?"

Tousen's head jerked and he coughed once again. "I… still believe in honor… You… are the ones who are blind and cannot see the truth…" Then his head lolled to one side and he was silent.

Komamura, standing over him, his face distorted by rage and sorrow, lifted his head. Across the deck stood Aizen, having dispatched his attacker. At the sight of Tousen's death, Aizen met Komamura's eyes with a faint ironic lift of one brow, his expression as calm as always. Watching Aizen's face, Orihime shivered. It did not seem to matter to him even if his own subordinates died for him. Could she really love such a cold-hearted man?

"Aizen!" shouted Komamura, clearly enraged by the brown-haired man's calm expression. "Your own loyal follower dies, and you feel nothing? You lured him away with your lies simply because you wanted to exploit him, and then you discard him when he's no longer of use to you! My friend deserved better than that!" In fury, he advanced on Aizen, blade held high.

It all happened so quickly that Orihime almost didn't see what happened. Aizen moved fast, so fast that his blade was almost invisible. With one horizontal stroke he had cut down the larger man, who fell to the deck with a resounding crash. Orihime sucked in her breath. There was a very brief moment of quiet around Aizen, and then another opponent had leaped over the body to face him, sword drawn.

It was the fierce, black-haired woman who Orihime had last seen in court dress. Soi Fon. Now the woman was wearing a black uniform, her hair bound back, her eyes vicious as she faced Aizen and their swords clanged together with ferocious impact. Her face was contorted with rage.

"Aizen, you traitor!" she ground out as she moved forward and made a horizontal thrust with her blade. Aizen parried and circled around her blade, his point aimed at her eye. His expression was serene and amused; had she seen it under other circumstances, Orihime would have thought he was about to sit down to have tea rather than fighting in a battle for his life.

"Soi Fon, I thought I had an agreement with the king," he said in a calm voice. "Why are you violating it?"

"I would never honor any agreement with a pirate… not that the new king would make deals with bastards and criminals like you!" She moved forward and attacked again.

He parried and withdrew as she attacked, meeting each one of her strokes with a clanging of blades. "I have expressed my willingness to stand beside Seireitei in the face of the invaders' attacks."

"Bastard!" she spat. "As though I don't know that you have somehow corrupted many of our people and probably made a dirty deal with the invaders! You are willing to destroy your own country in order to rule over the burning rubble. Well, I will die before I let you!" She pressed forward with a flurry of strokes.

"That can be arranged," said Aizen with infuriating calm as he parried her strokes effortlessly.

Her blade slowed for a moment, and in that space Aizen moved forward and laid open her chest in a long stroke. She gasped and her blade faltered; then as blood welled out from under her tunic, her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed. Aizen walked forward, his face still showing only amused indifference. Bending to examine her, he casually wiped his blade on her clothing and then sheathed his sword. Orihime could only watch in shocked silence. All around her, she noticed people were falling silent. The battle was coming to an end. Seeing Soi Fon fall, her men were surrendering to Aizen's. Orihime could not tear her eyes away from Aizen's serene face as he began to give orders in a quiet voice and his men began moving among the wounded.

Shivering, she fled down the stairs back to the cabin.

XxXxXxX

**A/N:** All right, we are approaching the end of the story. What do you think should happen next? Please answer this poll:

a) Orihime, devastated by Aizen's perfidy, somehow manages to find her way to Soi Fon's ship and rejoins the Seireitei forces. Then she helps bring Aizen down by feeding the Seireitei key intelligence that she has learned while on his ship.

b) Orihime, devastated, goes back to the cabin, where she has secreted a knife. Vowing to no longer be used as a pawn in Aizen's schemes, she fatally stabs herself. Aizen enters as her lifeblood is departing her body. He holds her in his arms, and finally, admits his true feelings for her as she expires.

c) Orihime and Aizen somehow get back together again, although it's not clear how that can happen from here.

d) Don Kanonji shows up and attacks Aizen. ;D

e) Other [YOUR IDEA HERE]

And even if you don't want to answer the poll, please let me know your opinion of this story so far!


	9. Chapter 9

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 9**

**A/N: **Thanks for your answers to my poll! I loved reading them and I incorporated small bits of some of them into the story.

OK, here it is: the climactic chapter. Major plot developments ahead. I worked very hard to get this one to come out right; I hope you agree and enjoy it.

Finally, thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, favoriting, or following this story. I really appreciate your support. :)

(Originally posted 11/5/11, edited 11/12/11.)

XxXxXxX

Orihime lay, curled up and shivering, under the blanket on the bed, as the long, gray day shaded into night and Aizen did not return to the cabin. Periods of shouting and noise alternated with periods of quiet. At one point during the night, she saw a ship on fire outside the porthole, its sails and masts crumbling in the conflagration. She did not sleep until she saw the faint light of dawn seeping into the cabin.

She finally awoke much later, when Aizen entered the cabin where she lay curled into a ball on the bed. His hair was disheveled, falling into his face, and there were lines of exhaustion at the corners of his brown eyes. There was a long rip in one of his shirt sleeves, but he did not appear to be injured. His movements, although slow, had lost none of their usual grace. However, as he approached, she turned her head away. She would not greet this man she had just watched murder multiple people with a look of utter uncaring on his face.

He crossed to the sideboard with a tired sigh, opened one of the cabinets and extracted a bottle of wine and a glass. He uncorked the bottle and then poured two fingers of wine into the glass. He looked over at her. "Do you want some?" he asked, unfailingly polite. She shook her head mutely.

He lifted his glass, drank briefly. For a moment there was silence between them. Then he said softly, "The battle is over, Orihime. We are victorious. My ships have met and defeated all of the invaders. They have surrendered and we have all their crews in custody. Seireitei's vessels and mine fought side by side against the invaders. Soi Fon is dead, and Ukitake has tendered an offer of alliance. We are to meet tomorrow in neutral waters." His voice was dispassionate and Orihime felt her muscles clench. She refused to meet his gaze, the overwhelming anger building in her like a tidal wave at the callousness of this man, who could send so many people to their deaths and think nothing of it, who could speak of 'victory' as though it were nothing other than a singularly unimportant piece of trivia, rather than a cataclysm where dozens, maybe hundreds of lives had been snuffed out. And to think she had even begun to believe she might be falling in love with him. That made it all far worse. Her face burned with rage and her fingers curled into fists.

She could feel the bed move as he sat on it, could hear his heavy sigh. "What is it, Orihime?"

Slowly, she turned her head to face him, her eyes dark with anger. She had not been planning to say anything, but now she could not hold back her outrage. "How could you?" she spat.

He raised his eyebrows. "How could I what?"

"You don't even care about the people who have served you for years!" she flung at him. "I saw you watching as Tousen died. You didn't care that he died! You don't mind murdering and killing, and the lives of your enemies and your allies are equally worthless to you!" Tears began to seep from her eyes, and angrily, she wiped them away with a fist. "I can't believe I had started to think you might have a heart after all!"

He said nothing in response to her outburst, his face neutral as always. But then she saw something stir deep within his eyes. His silence continued, but she saw his fingers turn white on the bowl of the wineglass. A moment later, the glass shattered in his hand. She gasped as the red wine mingled with his own blood, staining his long, pale fingers still holding the jagged remnants of the glass.

His voice, when he spoke, was low and barely controlled. "Do not speak to me of the people who died because they believed in me—especially Kaname Tousen. You cannot possibly know what it meant to me to see that self-righteous prig Komamura and that posturing loudmouth Hisagi murder Kaname right before my very eyes— before I could even do anything to help." He turned to her, and she could see his eyes were haunted, the agony she had failed to see earlier brimming within them. "Many of my people died today, but Kaname has been with me almost since the beginning. He is one of the very few who knew the truth."

Orihime stared at him, her heart pounding wildly. "The truth? What do you mean?"

He gave a long, low sigh, and she could see him struggling to allow his refined features to settle back into their mask of serenity. He stood up, facing away from her, catching the shards of glass in a cloth and mopping up the wine and blood, slowly wiping off his fingers one by one. "You see, Kaname chose to follow me. He could have stayed in his safe position with Seireitei. I warned him that the path included dishonor and possible death… but he said that all he cared about was justice." His voice turned bitter. "Indeed, he is one of the few who turned his back on honor, on his family and friends… to become a pirate and an outlaw. He trusted me, and where did I lead him?" His mouth was set, the unaccustomed emotion distorting the elegant lines of his face and tugging at Orihime's heart. He extracted another glass from the cupboard and poured himself a second glass of wine. He tipped the glass up and drained its contents, then set it down with a clink on the wooden table. "You should never trust anyone, Orihime. Most especially… you should never let anyone trust you." She could see his hands were trembling slightly. It was somewhat unnerving. She had grown so accustomed to seeing him preternaturally confident and in control, as unyielding and serene as a force of nature.

To see him this way… he looked almost… _human_. No longer the emotionless pirate and king with almost godlike strength and power, but a person with feelings like her own. It twisted something deep down inside her, the part of her that had always fought against him. She could see now what she had missed earlier: he was experiencing profound grief and had merely been hiding it. So what did that mean? What was truly going on? What was the truth about him?

He returned to the bench and sat, slumped over, with his head in his hands, his slender fingers threaded into his tousled brown hair, for a long moment. She stared at him again, her heart pounding. She was too taken aback by this unexpected development in her captor to even know what to think.

She was about to say something when he finally stirred. "Let me tell you a story," he said, not raising his head.

"There was once a peaceful, wealthy domain, one of the most powerful domains in its country. It had been ruled by the same family for centuries." He glanced up at her. "The ruler was named Lord Shinji Hirako."

Orihime's eyes widened but she said nothing. She sat quietly, waiting for him to continue. Somewhere far in the distance there was shouting and banging against the hull of the ship. Aizen did not stir. The small cabin rocked steadily back and forth.

"Lord Hirako was a powerful man, and he was also generous. He frequently invited many members of his large family to visit him in his palace and stay with him for extended periods of time, becoming acquainted with their relatives, having their children trained in the fighting arts, and attending lavish balls.

"Among those who had been invited to stay with Lord Hirako one summer was a young boy, sixteen years old, a second cousin, minor nobility, whose family were eager for him to meet his noble cousins." His eyes were fixed on the porthole. "This boy was more interested in books than in socializing, and they hoped that Lord Hirako, who was well known to be gregarious, might be able to bring the boy out of his shell.

"But Lord Hirako took an instant dislike to the boy. The boy overheard him telling one of his courtiers that he didn't trust him, that he only allowed the boy to visit to keep an eye on him." Aizen took a deep breath and rested his chin in his hand. "The boy was housed in a remote wing, far away from Hirako and his favorites. The boy felt slighted, but it turned out to be a fortunate placement. One night there was a terrible fire in the palace." He looked at her, his expression shuttered. "It was a complete and bizarre accident. An entire wing of the palace burned down in the conflagration. It was utterly demolished." His gaze was harsh, faraway, something she could not understand flaring in his eyes. "Lord Hirako, his direct descendants, all his close relatives, including this boy's parents, all perished in the fire." Orihime sucked in her breath, her eyes wide and fixed on his. "The kingdom was devastated, and while everyone was in mourning, the question of succession to the rulership of the domain was debated. All the direct heirs had succumbed to the blaze. The domain was thrown into chaos." He paused for a moment, his eyes distant.

"It is not widely known outside the domain," he continued, "that the Fifth Domain is characterized not only by its wealth and power but also by its possession of a particular artifact. One could say it is a royal heirloom." He eyed her as he continued speaking. "This object is a jewel, called the Hougyoku, which is said to have prophetic powers. The jewel has been passed down from parent to child for generations; and it was said that the key test for rule is the ability to communicate with the jewel, which is said to be sentient."

He paused once more and appeared to be deliberating. Then he stood and unlocked the small drawer Orihime had been so curious about earlier. As he slid it open, she once again saw the eerie blue glow she had seen a couple of times before. Aizen reached into the drawer and cupped the object within his fingers, then turned and showed it to her on his palm. Orihime gasped. It was a huge, deep blue jewel, apparently glowing from within; there was movement within its depths, patterns of lights that almost appeared to make sense. Mesmerized, Orihime reached out for it almost involuntarily. Aizen closed his fingers around it before she could touch it.

"You are seeing what few have ever seen, my dear; the most priceless relic of the Fifth Domain." He gazed at her, his large eyes intense. "I'm showing it to you now to demonstrate to you that I trust you."

Orihime met his eyes, swallowed, and nodded. Aizen turned back to the drawer, slid the glowing object inside, and closed it once again with a small 'click.' Orihime let out her breath; she had not realized how heavy the air in the room had apparently become; as the jewel was once more sealed away, she felt an odd lightening of pressure in the compact cabin and felt her shoulders relax. Aizen returned to his seat and resumed his story.

"The courtiers delved into the archives, studied the ancient lore of the domain, and determined that there was a test that could be applied in a case such as this, where there was not an obvious heir to the throne. All surviving members of the family were to be tested in a particular way to determine their connection with the Hougyoku.

"Now as it happened, there was another cousin of Hirako's, a man named Kisuke Urahara, who believed that he was the closest relative to Hirako and as such deserved to be named lord in his place." Aizen's lips twisted slightly. "Urahara was quite clever and in some ways devious. And it was true that he was more closely related to Hirako than the boy was. But the courtiers insisted on the test for all applicants to the lordship.

"The test consisted of placing the subject in contact with the jewel and asking a series of questions to determine the ability of the subject to predict future events. One by one, surviving members of the family were brought to a particular room in the palace for the test. Among them was the boy, who one day was led into the room with all the courtiers as witness. The Hougyoku had been placed on a raised platform in the center of the room. The boy was instructed to place his hand on the jewel directly." His eyes flickered.

"Many others had come before the jewel and no one had passed the test, including Urahara. He and his allies were pressuring the courtiers to end the testing process. They claimed that the so-called prophetic abilities of the Hougyoku did not exist, and brought forth evidence that Hirako had not been able to communicate with it either. But the courtiers insisted that all relatives of the ruling family with even a small amount of noble blood be tested." He paused and was silent for a long moment. Orihime could not take her eyes off him.

"When the boy placed his hand on the jewel, something happened that the courtiers had never before seen. The jewel flared with light at the boy's touch, brilliant light that shone like the sun in the dimly lit room." His eyes were faraway now, lost in the memory. "The boy found he could gaze straight into the dazzling radiance without flinching. In the light of the Hougyoku, the boy could see something he had never seen before. It was as though he lost consciousness for a moment. In that moment, he had a vision, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say multiple visions, a set of possibilities of what the future could be."

His eyes were bleak now. "In that vision, he saw all the possibilities of the future laid out like spokes in a wheel before him. And in almost all of the possible futures he saw his homeland devastated, the Seireitei sacked and burning from end to end, its people murdered and enslaved."

Orihime could not hold back a gasp, but Aizen was no longer looking at her.

"For it turned out that a race of barbarians from across the sea was coming. They were preparing to invade the Seireitei and take over its rich territories and fertile lands. And the members of this race were powerful warriors with a mighty fleet of ships that would sail to Seireitei and capture it without much resistance, for the domains of the Seireitei were pusillanimous and quarrelsome. None of them wished to give their neighbors power over them, and they bickered endlessly. Their king was weak, and none of them had interest in building and arming a fleet.

"The boy panicked when he saw this disaster looming for his country, and he frantically looked among the possible future threads for one that might not be so gloomy. And finally, off in a corner, he found a set of threads where the Seireitei repulsed the invaders, destroyed their fleet, and lived on in peace." Orihime sucked in her breath, her eyes locked on Aizen's.

"In that set of future threads, the boy became ruler of the domain, and then king of Seireitei. He built a great fleet of ships and led the nation against the invaders. But this boy was a quiet intellectual. He saw the methods he would have to use to become king, the actions he would have to take to ensure obedience to his rule, and they disgusted him. He didn't want to be a ruler. He searched and searched for another possible thread, looking especially at the ones where Urahara became leader of his domain, for there were many of those." He paused, and the cabin was quiet. "But in all of those, all he saw was his city burning and heard the cries of the invaders throughout the streets."

There was a long silence. When the brown-haired man resumed speaking, his voice was quiet. "When the prophetic vision faded, the boy raised his head, and informed the courtiers that the Hougyoku had spoken to him and informed him that he was to rule the domain."

Orihime let out a breath that she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"But even after the boy was crowned lord, there was still resentment. Urahara refused to believe the ceremony had been legitimate. He fought at first in the courts of law, and gathered allies to support his claim. He undermined every attempt the boy made to establish his rule and unify the domain. As a result, the land was restless, and warring factions fought each other in the streets. Blood was shed.

"Finally, one day, in a private meeting, Urahara came to speak to the boy in the palace, and demand he abdicate. He even insinuated that the original accident, the fire in the palace that had killed so many people, had been no accident. Frustrated, the boy responded. He looked Urahara straight in the eye, smiled slightly, and nodded. 'Well. It was effective, was it not?'

"The effect on Urahara was instantaneous and gratifying. The man paled and his mouth opened and closed like a fish. He looked so shocky and his skin became so clammy that the boy thought he was going to pass out. Saying nothing more, he rushed out of the palace, and the boy later heard he had withdrawn to his mountain fortress, taking with him only his most loyal adherents. He sent word that he had thrown his support to the new lord. From that moment on, he was extremely deferential to the boy in all of their interactions." There was a wry smile on Aizen's face. He paused, looking off into the distance. Orihime sat still as a stone, almost holding her breath once again.

"The boy realized in that moment the value of illusion. The value of fear in inducing humans, who can be weak and vacillating, to take the necessary actions. Alas, sometimes fear is more effective than the desire for justice or the law." His eyes flicked to Orihime. "Although he always attempted to avoid the actual use of violence, he found that over and over again, the threat of violence was the most effective means to secure his subjects' adherence to the actions required to keep them on the path that would save them all." His eyes were narrowed now as he saw something not visible to Orihime there in the dim cabin.

"The boy communed with the Hougyoku many times after that. And in all of its visions, the path the jewel showed him was bloody and harsh; it was clear that the only routes to saving his country involved becoming a feared dictator, overthrowing the king in a bloody battle. Lives would be saved, but only if he imposed severe sanctions on the people, if he turned to despotism and terror as his weapons. Seireitei would continue, but its people, though alive, would be full of despair. He looked into the heart of his future self and saw that it had become black and desolate." He eyed Orihime briefly. "It was a terrible dilemma that appeared to have no good solution: either the destruction of his homeland or its enslavement. In agony, he returned again and again to the Hougyoku, looking over and over again for diplomatic solutions where he took the political road to power." He let out a long sigh. "Unfortunately, all of those ended in civil war, with Soi Fon and her allies attacking the new king… followed shortly by the bloody sacking of Seireitei by the barbarians." He fell silent for a moment, lost in his memories.

"But then, one night, the boy saw a historical play about a mythical pirate leader and the legendary country of Las Noches. The next day, as he sat in his private chambers closeted with the Hougyoku, he spotted a new thread, a low probability thread." He smiled. "This thread was almost like an adventure story. In it, the boy created a hidden identity as a rogue and a pirate, and not only did the pirate fleet's ravaging of the Seireitei's coastline cause all the domains to turn their resources to shipbuilding in order to combat his attacks, but shipbuilding skills throughout the realm were developed and expanded as locals saw a new market and began to sell ships to Las Noches. In the end, when the barbarian ships came to Seireitei, pillaging and destroying, the pirate sent his fleet to battle the invaders, narrowly defeating them when the newly strengthened fleets of many of the domains joined him. He came sailing into Seireitei's main harbor in triumph… and, with the aid of a number of secret allies on the Seireitei ruling council, was hailed as the new king when it was discovered that King Yamamoto died of an aneurysm when hearing of the invaders' plans. He became a hero to his people rather than a despot, and the boy saw that the country would flourish as a result, and that there was even a chance for happiness in his own life.

"But planning for such a low-probability future was quite risky. Some of the paths were not clear; others relied on further low-probability outcomes. Additionally, creating and sustaining the illusion that a bookish intellectual was really a ruthless pirate… was not without its challenges." He gave her a wry smile. "Of course, it helped that perhaps the pirate had always been within, and perhaps it was the other that had been the mask. Indeed, speaking of masks, the boy found that the legends of the past, of a ship crewed by supernatural beings with remnants of bone masks on their faces, were remarkably successful in intimidating certain of his opponents. The boy had bone masks fashioned for his 'pirates,' and found their success rates in battle went up dramatically." He smiled. "Never underestimate the power of psychological warfare on your enemies." His smile faded and he shrugged. "Regardless, over and over again, in all of the threads that led to the most successful outcome, one face appeared." He paused and glanced at Orihime once more.

"That face was yours." Orihime gasped, her eyes wide as she stared at him. "I had known of you, of course," he went on, casually. Orihime noted the change in pronouns almost absently, so caught up was she in the story. "But I knew you were promised to Kurosaki and that your family was known for its honor." He paused once more, scrutinizing her face. "In the visions, however, that led to the most favorable conclusion, you were there, rallying the people, speaking in front of large crowds, supporting me with your sweet voice and obviously pure heart."

Orihime did not move. Her eyes were riveted to Aizen's. His voice, when he finally went on, was low. "In those visions, you stood beside me holding the hand of a small child… our child."

Orihime could no longer breathe. Her hand crept to her belly.

"In those visions," Aizen went on in a whisper now, "you stood beside me as we were crowned King and Queen of Seireitei."

He stopped speaking and fell silent. In the silence, Orihime could hear the creaking of the ship, the slapping of the waves against the ship's hull, and voices faint in the distance. Neither of them spoke as Orihime's thoughts whirled, tumbling one past another in a confused but somehow relieved jumble.

After a very long pause, Orihime broke the silence. "What happened next? Did the country grow strong under our rule? Did our child grow up and become a wise ruler?"

Aizen looked up at her and stared, saying nothing. The silence stretched out between them and Orihime became uneasy at the intensity of his gaze.

Then, just as she was about to say something simply to fill the silence, he suddenly burst out laughing. "Curiosity! It is your besetting sin, my dear. Here I was on tenterhooks whether you would believe me or not, and it turns out you only want to find out how the story ends." He became serious once more. "The Hougyoku has never shown me any visions beyond that point in time." He smiled. "The legend of the jewel states that it only serves our family in times of great crisis. I take it to mean that after our marriage and coronation, we live free of crises and happily ever after."

"Marriage… and coronation?" Orihime's voice faltered.

"Yes." Aizen's gaze was once more unreadable. "I intend to marry you and crown you Queen of Seireitei, my dear."

Orihime drew in her breath, unable to speak for a moment. Then she found her voice. "And when were you planning to _ask_ me to marry you?" Her voice was tart again, but there was an underlying softness to it this time.

Aizen laughed. "Have I ever given you a choice in anything, my dear?" Then he swept her up into his arms and his lips found hers, and any protests she might have been thinking of making were lost as his demanding tongue and mouth once again took possession of hers in that way that had become so familiar. And as she melted in his arms once again, she felt the utter security of being held in his grasp, of being encircled by his strength; and this time she felt a wonderful serenity and happiness, that he was not—completely—the rogue she had feared he was, and that at last there was no longer any question that she would belong to him, once and for all, now and forever.


	10. Chapter 10

**Come Back Alive to This Place – Chap. 10**

**A/N: **I would like to thank my readers for their attention and my reviewers for generously sharing ideas, praise, critique, comments, and support. I have incorporated bits of many of your ideas into my story, and I have smiled and laughed over your reviews and become inspired to write further. **Eldar-Melda, VirgilTheart, RabbidMaki, Cerice Belle, nypsy, ThePandaHat, sokkenai, Darinenelle, MM08, rootali, Gun d'ange, Embryforever, Twoformemories, glasclach, Lonewingwriter, miss quirky bookworm, Airrieal, ichihime shaz, tootsiepopgurl, Nightkill, SuperYuuki, Kelsey L Leigh, champylin, MondayRain90, emo1sk8r, Flare-Flare, After The Fire, kisagi, OtakuZEO**... this means YOU. :) If I've missed you, review chapter 10 and I'll add you to the list! ;)

Oh, and **Lony**... you get your wish in this chapter. ;)

I would especially like to thank those of you who reviewed with constructive criticism pointing out the flaws in this story and helping me make it better. Especially, thanks to **Twoformemories** and **glasclach** for your incisive commentary. I have gone back and edited the entire story based on your very helpful suggestions.

**Note (3/29/15):** **Twoformemories **has now written a sequel to this story! Very lovely and dark. It's called _Queen of Hearts_. Link: fanfiction dot net/s/11140363/1/Queen-of-Hearts

**Warning: **Lemon in second half of chapter. Do not read if you are under 18.

(Originally posted 11/12/11.)

XxXxXxX

**Epilogue**

As they sailed into Seireitei Harbor, crowds lined the docks to watch the unexpected hero and savior of the country, who turned out, after all, to be their own Fifth Domain lord. In the face of the popular outcry, Ukitake had abdicated in his favor. Aizen had sent agents ahead to prime the rumor mills, to spread the word about his deeds, to pave the way for his kingship. Instead of the pirate king of Las Noches being despised as a traitor, the tales of the dashing pirate who had crushed the barbarian invaders and saved Seireitei were on everyone's lips. With his typical ruthless efficiency, Aizen had made sure he would be welcomed as a hero.

Orihime shivered a little. He had turned out to be as ruthless as his carefully constructed persona in many ways; he would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, and he had made it clear that disobedience to his rule would not be tolerated. But now that she had been made aware that his true goal had always been to save their country rather than pillage it, her own view of him had changed. She could still see that she would have to be quite active in his government as a force to plead for mercy; indeed, it was clear that it was destined to be her life's task.

However, despite his arrogance, Aizen had shown a surprising willingness to listen to her in decisions of state, and she could see that she would have a powerful role in keeping him from truly becoming the tyrant he had seen in his visions. Indeed, he had specifically told her that the most successful futures were those where, after all was said and done, she chose to ally herself with him of her own free will, even though at the time she believed him to be completely evil. He had emphasized that it was her compassion and forgiveness that were needed for the best future for Seireitei.

But she had been surprised at how many people, it seemed, were grateful for Aizen's strength, and welcomed his decrees, almost as though they had been hungry for a leader such as him. Things had fallen apart in many areas of Seireitei with the decades-long power vacuum at the top, and corruption and sloth riddled the government as well as the country's private institutions. The inevitable widespread fraud had led to much suffering, and citizens were eager for a strong hand to scrape out all the rot, perhaps with more force than was strictly necessary.

People were standing thick along the docks, and as the ship drew closer to shore she could see that they were all cheering. Aizen raised an arm in salute as he stood at the bow. With his other arm, he drew Orihime to him. She was still wearing her wedding dress, and the cheering intensified as they sailed by, as people spotted the two of them in their matrimonial finery. The ship continued its slow progression toward the Seireitei docks, all the people welcoming their new King and Queen.

Gin came up behind them, grinning as usual. "Ne, Aizen-taichou, Inoue-dono, ya two make a fine royal couple. Ya look good t'gether, y'know?" He scrutinized the crowds on the docks. "Ev'rythin's been taken care of as ya ordered, sir," he said to Aizen, who nodded.

Behind him, Orihime's Aunt Rangiku, who had rushed out to the ship to be her maid of honor in the hurriedly arranged wedding, grinned almost as widely as the silver-haired man with whom she had recently struck up an unexpected friendship.

Aizen's arm, curled firmly about Orihime's waist, tightened as a renewed swell of cheering greeted them as they approached their docking slip. She relaxed into the support of his arm as she smiled and waved back to the crowd, feeling anew the strength and energy of his grasp and knowing she was utterly loved and protected.

XxXxXxX

Aizen sighed, leaning back in the richly brocaded armchair, twirling the glass of ruby wine in his long fingers so it glinted in the firelight. "Ah, I almost cannot believe that everything I have planned has come to fruition," he said quietly. He glanced over at Orihime, sitting in another armchair across from him in their grand private quarters in Seireitei Palace. "It took quite a bit of elaborate planning."

"How hard could it have been," asked Orihime somewhat acerbically, "when you had a prophetic jewel telling you exactly what the future held?"

Aizen smiled. "It's not quite as easy as it looks, my dear. There were many factors which had to be balanced, and there is always the chance, especially on these low probability paths, of a chance event derailing everything." He glanced at her and his expression darkened in memory. "For example, the events surrounding your abduction had to be perfectly timed and executed." His lips curled slightly as he regarded her. "In almost all of the timelines, Lord Ichigo attacked us and was able to rescue you. Those timelines all led to disaster."

Her eyes turned to his. "Disaster?" There was a faint hint of suspicion in her voice.

"Yes," he said softly. "The more I searched the threads, the more I found difficulties. After seeing you appear in the timelines, I focused more on your future during my sessions with the Hougyoku. And it turned out that in almost every one of your future threads, you ended up married to Ichigo Kurosaki."

She stared at him, wide-eyed.

"I expected that, because you were handfasted to him, after all." He stood up and paced to the far end of the room, then turned slowly and faced her again. "But what I did not expect was how happy you two were." A shadow passed over his face. "He was kind to you, despite the past rumors of his violent personality, and the two of you loved each other. You seemed to have a special bond. I could see the bond already forming with that one visit you two had on my vessel that day." He frowned.

"However," he said, his face becoming stern, "there was a problem with all the threads where you two ended up together—and it was not merely my jealousy." A brief smile twisted his lips only to disappear as his eyes darkened. "In every single one of them, Seireitei was destroyed—and both of you were killed in the battles. He was resolved to defend his country whatever the cost, and you accompanied him to the battlefield to tend the wounded." He regarded her, his face grave. "There was not a single thread in which you lived to celebrate your one-year anniversary."

Orihime swallowed. Her hands, which had become cold, clutched one another in her lap.

Aizen sighed. "I was not surprised that someone as good-hearted and pure as you would end up with someone equally good-hearted." He gazed off into the distance. "He is, indeed, probably a better match for you than someone like me." He gave her a dark smile. "Let's face it, my ethics leave much to be desired, and I am willing to do anything to accomplish my goals."

Orihime dropped her eyes.

"Nevertheless," he said softly as he took one of her hands in his and began gently warming it, "I am inordinately pleased that in this lifetime and this universe, it appears to be best for everyone if you and I are together."

Orihime sat up and looked at him, her eyes wide with curiosity. "So how did you make it come out this way, if it was such a low-probability path?"

There was deep satisfaction in his smirk. "I studied those timelines for weeks, searching for the most favorable outcome, examining them over and over again, planning for every contingency." He reached for his glass of wine, took a sip and gazed at her over the rim of the glass, eyes narrowed slightly with amusement. "It turned out that it all depended on whether you were pregnant at the time of Kurosaki's arrival."

Orihime stared at him in disbelief. "You planned that too?"

"Yes. You had to be pregnant, and know you were pregnant, by the time he arrived. Only in those timelines did you agree to my demands." His gaze was dark. "The most effective means to cause you to behave in accordance with my wishes was to threaten the lives of your maidservant and family. That threat was effective at all times except during Kurosaki's visit." Orihime stiffened, thinking once again of the terror she had felt at his threats. She frowned, but Aizen was no longer looking at her. He was gazing into the fire, his face neutral. "Apparently, you felt such a connection to him that you would even risk the death of your family members in order to escape with him, unless you were already pregnant."

Orihime glared at him. "Were you really going to kill my family if I disobeyed you?"

"Of course not." His voice was mild. "As I have told you before, I find it much more effective to use threats of violence rather than the violence itself to obtain my goals."

"Still," she said, angry now, "you could have used a method other than threats with me."

"Indeed," he said. He leaned back and studied her face, his expression calm. "There were many options where I approached you… in a more gentlemanly manner." His gaze was measured. "However, in all of them, you refused me." One corner of his mouth curled up. "That confounded honor of yours, you know. Even in the timelines where I revealed the nature of the Hougyoku to you and explained the consequences, you still stubbornly insisted on going through with your marriage to Kurosaki." A slight frown creased his brow. "You were quite tiresome."

He brought her hand to his lips with a sigh, gazing over their joined hands at her with his dark, intense eyes. She met his eyes, her ire evaporating.

"Sousuke," she said, pressing his hand, "please do not worry. Yes, perhaps, if I had known Ichigo Kurosaki longer, I might have grown to feel love for him. I do feel that he is a special person. Perhaps in another lifetime, the two of us might be destined to be together. But Sousuke… in this lifetime, here and now, I don't feel the spark for him that I feel for you." She looked down at their intertwined fingers, then met his eyes with a sudden grin. "There's something about you that is endlessly appealing to me, despite your… character flaws. And I feel the two of us fit together, like light and dark, like pepper and salt; we fit so well perhaps because we are so different." She looked up at him and he was grinning back at her, mischief and affection lighting his eyes.

"It's fortunate, then, that we are so different, Orihime," he said. Then a teasing glint entered his eyes. "And it's a good thing I settled upon the option of coercion early on." His lips quirked in a smile again. "It turned out to be more… enjoyable… for both of us." He leaned forward, his eyes now dancing with wickedness.

"As a matter of fact, on that subject…" He set the glass of wine down on an end table and rose, coming to her and gracefully straddling her in the chair. His lips brushed hers, and then he leaned forward to take her mouth in a demanding kiss, pressing his lips into hers, his tongue insistent. She yielded to him, and felt his smile at her submission to his desires. His eyes dancing, he reached for her and brazenly slipped both hands under the bodice of her dress and stroked her breasts. She gasped as the remnants of her outrage resurfaced for a moment with her shock. "Sousuke! Shouldn't we be in bed for this? What if the servants come in?"

He chuckled as he bent his head to her throat and began licking the skin along the neckline of her gown. "Who cares?" he murmured as his lips vibrated against the skin of her throat. Then he drew back, regarding her in silence for a few seconds, his eyes narrowed in speculation.

Then, with one powerful movement, he ripped the fabric of her dress, exposing her stays. He laughed. "I've always wanted to do that. And now that I'm a king as well as a pirate, I can do whatever I please."

Orihime gave him a sardonic glance. "Nothing has ever stopped you from doing whatever you please."

"Of course, my dear; it so frequently happens that doing whatever I want leads to the best outcomes... for everybody," he said with calm satisfaction as he unlaced her corset and dropped it on the floor, leaning into her in the armchair, taking her full breasts in his hands. "I'm going to take you right here, in our audience chamber, the servants be damned." His huge eyes were focused on hers from only inches away, and once again she felt the almost hypnotic power of his will. Why did it feel so… intensely pleasurable to submit to his every whim? She shivered under his hands, this time with delight. She had never imagined feeling so absolutely cared-for, so unreservedly protected, as though she were a small but precious jewel cupped in the palm of one of his powerful hands. It was unbelievably erotic.

He drew off her shoes and curled his fingers around her stockings, sliding them down her legs and tracing patterns with those long elegant fingers along the bare skin of her inner thighs. As his hands roamed under what remained of her dress and his mouth met hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth, she closed her eyes and felt the last shreds of her anger dissipate. He was setting her body on fire, once again, that incredible sensation of physical passion taking over her body and mind, until she felt utterly overwhelmed by him, until she wanted nothing other than to share pleasure with him.

He drew back from her for a moment, and gazed at her with his dark, soulful eyes ringed with thick lashes. The tip of his long tongue appeared at the corner of his mouth and she felt her own mouth open in response, every part of her body willingly baring itself to him. A faint smile emerged on his face, and a devilish spark glinted in his eyes.

"On second thought," he said, "I've changed my mind."

She opened her eyes fully, staring at him in surprise.

He picked her up easily in his lean, muscular arms and cradled her half-naked body to his chest, her bare feet dangling over one arm. He walked rapidly toward the far end of the audience chamber, going not to the door to their private quarters, but to the door that led to the throne room.

"Where are you going, Sousuke? Did you want to go to bed after all?" she asked, puzzled.

His only response was a dark chuckle. Then he kicked open the broad, heavily carved wooden door to the throne room. The vast, high-ceilinged room was empty, the many tall windows reflecting back the lamps flaring in their wall sconces at regular intervals along the wall. Silk strands on the tapestries lining the walls gleamed in the low light.

He mounted the wide, shallow steps that led to the dais holding the oversized throne and seated himself on the velvet cushion, Orihime pinned on his lap. His lips were curled in a lascivious smirk, his eyes dark with lust and mischief. Orihime struggled to sit up, her breasts hanging free in the cool air, the torn remnants of her dress trailing along the rich, soft velvet.

"Sousuke!" she cried softly, her voice echoing in the large room, embarrassment at her nudity in a public space sharpening her voice. "Whatever are you doing?"

He only smiled and lifted her body, arranging her so she straddled him, half-naked, on the throne. "This is something else I've always wanted to do," he whispered, indulging in a flurry of feathery kisses along her throat. She gasped as her sensitive skin sparked in response to his lips and tongue, and tingles shot through her entire body. He pulled her body to his and bucked his hips forward into her; she could feel his erection pressing hard against her legs, straining at his clothing. She felt both scandalized and suddenly wet in her core and ravenous with desire, the conflicting feelings driving her mad with confusion.

A little shocked and flustered but still unbelievably aroused, she gasped. "You can't seriously expect us to…" she protested. "Not here, not on King Yamamoto's _throne_… mmph, mmmph—" Her voice was muffled as his mouth descended on hers again.

When he came up for air, her eyes were wide as they fastened on his face once more. He had never appeared so beautiful, his pale skin flushed, his eyes demanding but hazed with lust, his hair tousled with the single curl still falling between his eyes, the perfection of his features enhanced by the bloom of arousal on his face. She sighed. She could never resist him when he was like this, as puissant and unrelenting as a force of nature.

"It's not Yamamoto's throne any more," he pointed out. "It's mine— ours." He wrapped his arms around her fiercely. "It's time to christen it," he murmured with another devilish smirk.

"What?" she asked, half-laughing and half-frowning, shaking her head and trying once again to push herself away from him. With careless strength, he held her against him, her breasts pressing against his chest as his hand pinned her hips and his fingers slid under her torn clothing. "Sousuke, I'm a total mess here… what are you doing?" She could not help herself, giggling helplessly as his hands cupped and lifted her large, soft breasts and his fingertips stroked fire on her bare skin. "No, I don't think we're supposed to…"

He bent a very dark glance on her. "What's the point of having absolute power if we can't do whatever we want?" His eyes were half-lidded now as he rubbed himself against her, then began unbuttoning his own clothes, opening the brocaded, royal blue fabric of his robe. He laughed deep in his throat. His erection brushed against the shreds of her dress and the skin of her torso, trailing milky liquid over the gentle swell of her belly, across the soft flesh of her thighs, teasing the reddish hair between her legs.

She tried one last time. "But what if someone comes in while we're…" And then she was blushing and laughing as with one powerful motion, he had pulled the last folds of fabric from around her hips, removing the remnants of her dress in a single movement. She half-fell on top of him, naked on the huge throne, helpless in the grip of his arms, unable to stop herself from smiling even as she felt a blush creeping over the skin of her face.

His lips brushed her ear. "Why should you or I have to worry about what anyone else thinks now?" He began licking and nipping at the shell of her ear as she writhed on his lap, throwing her head back, no longer able to mount even a feeble resistance to him. He breathed onto her neck, whispering, "You know they would be too afraid of me to say anything…"

Her fingers tangled in his thick brown hair as his lips surrounded the nipple of one breast, opening wide to suck and torment her with his tongue. At the same time, his fingers found her inner core between her legs and slipped inside. She moaned, no longer caring that the sound echoed all around the vast, empty throne room.

After bringing her to the brink of need, he removed his fingers, his eyes dark and teasing. "Noooo," she whimpered, and he laughed. He aligned himself with her entrance and slid inside easily, she was so slick, so suffused with desire, so helpless with longing for him. She clutched at his smooth, cool, well-muscled back and moaned again. She would do anything for this man, she realized as he filled her and her body wrapped around him and was wracked with waves of concentrated pleasure. She loved him, wanted him, yearned for him; there was something about the careless power in his every movement that unraveled her will and her resistance; she felt deliciously weak in his hands and yet so utterly safe at last, knowing he loved her and would protect and treasure her beyond all reason or hope.

As he moved within and against her, the friction ignited heavy flashes of pleasure that lengthened and intensified as his thrusts increased in vigor and speed. She panted, her fingernails digging into the hard muscles of his back, the unbearable ecstasy of his penetration deep into her innermost core taking her breath away, slamming her hard against the carved marble armrests of the high throne, but she no longer could feel anything but him, the intensity of her passion overwhelming her, her body flaring like a torch lit by the fire of his body, and then she was screaming as he took her over the edge, screaming with the incredible thrill that possessed her body and mind and burned her white as though struck by lightning. And at the same time he gasped and stiffened and threw his head back, his eyes closed in ecstasy, his beautiful throat bared to her, and she felt his seed shoot into her core like a flare, filling her, warming her, taking her.

She sighed as his body at last relaxed and they lay together, limp, on the velvet cushion, panting together for a long moment, his fingers gently running through her hair, their heartbeats gradually slowing.

"Ah, Orihime," he murmured in between covering her face with soft, slow kisses. "You are so beautiful, so all-encompassing to me. If I could only truly express how much I love you, it would overflow this room and flood all of Seireitei."

Her arms tightened around his warm body. "Oh, Sousuke, you are everything to me," she whispered. "Sousuke… I love you."

They lay together on the ancient throne of the kings of Seireitei, there in the beautiful and richly decorated chamber, the echoes of their sighs and moans fading to a memory, their breaths deepening and slowing. And Orihime knew in her inmost heart that they completed each other, that they were destined for each other in this lifetime, and that their love, and their children, would hold back the darkness for a very long time.

~THE END~

**A/N:** Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of this story! I welcome constructive criticism, random thoughts, or even, of course, praise. :D

Anyone want a sequel?


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